Rain City
by Miss Shannon
Summary: On a rainy evening Miss Parker finds herself embarking on a journey she did not think she would ever undertake. Least of all with Jarod by her side... Complete!
1. One

**Disclaimer: **None of this is mine.

**Author's Note:** I am somewhat stuck with "In dubio pro Reo" at the moment so I decided to start something else that seems easier to write right now. Please tell me what you think! Feedback is very very much appreciated and always makes me take the time to write more!

**1**

Silk rustled as a black blouse slid down a pale shoulder and ended up on the expensive Italian tiles. A skirt with almost too little fabric to deserve that name, followed suit, expensively tailored material carelessly cast aside.

Her long slim legs could have been those of a dancer had life only been different. They carried her across the landing and into the bathroom, then vanished between the mountains of foam that smelled heavily of vanilla. She sighed and rolled her head on her tired shoulders, carefully lowering herself into the fragrant floods.

Listening to the heavy rain coming down outside, she remained in that position for a moment. Cascades of water were tumbling down onto the roof and the branches in front of the window. Everything was dripping. The warm summer's day had cooled down considerably and she could feel the cool night air on the exposed yet wet skin of her shoulders.

Miss Parker reached for the glass of red wine she had placed next to the tub earlier and took a small savouring sip of the heavy liquid.

She licked her lips afterwards, imagining them to turn the dark burgundy red of wine that she had never managed to recreate with any of the expensive lipsticks she owned.

She sighed again, raised one leg once and, with closed eyes, felt the water trickle down her thigh while the cool air gave her goosebumps.

She had been longing for this moment of relaxation all day long and it was definetly worth the wait. Oh yes. She reached for her glass again, anticipating the dry aroma of the wine that would start on her tongue and spread through her mouth, filling her with the satisfaction that only a good wine can give you.

Although she had lit some candles she did not need to open her eyes to find what she was looking for. In the privacy of her luxurious bathroom Miss Parker felt perfectly comfortable not being on guard for once. Even though the window stood wide open and the wind was raging among the raindrops, from time to time spraying her naked skin with water.

Slowly she raised her hand from the water and blindly blew some foam off the back of her hand, then reached for the glass.

Then a hand grabbed hers.

Miss Parker wasn't one to scream girlishly, but being caught so completely off guard, she winced and gave a yelp of surprise when her eyes flew open and found Jarod sitting next to the tub, a smug smile on his face.

"Well, good evening," he said as if it was the most common thing in the world to turn up in her bathroom in the middle of a stormy night.

"What the hell?" she growled. Knowing however long he had enjoyed an undisturbed view of her he must have seen more of her than she cared for entirely, she did not make a move to cover herself. If he was surprised her did not show it.

"Read too much and wanted to try Susanna and the elders first hand?" she asked and was rewarded with a puzzled look on his face. Yes, she did like to confuse him.

"Susanna?" he asked and she decided to play the hand she'd been given. He knew so well how to handle her when she was in a rage, it would be nice to be the one in control for once.

"A story from the bible. Two elders surprise a married woman in her bath and try to blackmail her into sleeping with them. You might want to get into literature and art a little more instead of trying to taste every flavour of ice-cream under the sun", she explained, snatching the wineglass back from his fingers and taking another sip.

Jarod smiled, still with a quizzical look in his eyes, but obviously happy to finally be able to understand what she had been alluding to.

"Well, I can assure you. I am not here to blackmail you into anything."

"Delighted," she replied and stretched out one leg. "And what are you doing here? Trying to get caught?"

Now they were back on familiar territory and he relaxed visibly.

"Nah, just here to chat."

"What about? Any secrets and lies concerning my family you'd like to rub into my face tonight? Because if that is the case I might have to ask you to fetch the rest of the bottle."

He shook his head and, being hit by some stray raindrops, she realized for the first time that he was soaked. His jeans and pullover clung to his body, his hair and face were dripping.

"You look like a wet dog", she stated and decided to be friendly for once. "You may get yourself a towel. They're in the closet under the sink."

"Thanks." He rose from his crouched position on the floor next to the tub and walked over to the sink, fetched a pink towel and dried his face with it.

Miss Parker took advantage of the opportunity, rose and quickly wrapped a large towel around herself. When his still wet head emerged from the fabric he found her standing in front of him.

She looked less tall than usual- courtesy of her being barefoot instead of wearing killer heels- and her hair was tousled, looking slightly wavy as if she'd run her hand through it many times that day. A sign of stress, he knew. If she massaged her temples afterwards you could be sure that she'd explode into your face any moment.

Now she looked collected. Quite calm actually. And radiant with the water dripping from her bare shoulders. The foam in the tub had hidden everything else but it had been enough to kick any man's phantasy into motion.

Still, what he was here for was a matter so grave that his mind was entirely elsewhere. Miss Parker who picked up on feelings far more quickly than she showed her own, tensed slightly. He could see it in the muscles on her shoulders that tightened once.

She had to look up at him but her presence was so strong that they might as well have been eye to eye.

"You were going to tell me what you are here for," she said, her voice as snide as usual.

Her hand was holding on to the towel, he noticed. Her face illuminated only by candlelight and the towel slung around her body, she might have been a model from an advertisement, he thought. At least she did not look as scary as she usually did.

"I need your help," he said.

At first she was surprised, then she laughed, walking past him towards her bedroom where he had disabled both her phone and her cellphone earlier, so he followed slowly.

When he entered she stood next to her nightstand and turned around with an exasperated sigh.

"I should have known, shouldn't I?" she said, cocking her head. "Don't get me wrong now. I am not asking you this because I actually considered helping you. It is just sheer curiosity that I reckon deserves to be satisfied after you spoiled my nice evening. What the hell do you want me of all people to help you with?"

The rain grew heavier outside with a start which made them both turn toward the source of the noise. Her bedroom window was wide open, too, allowing them a view into the dripping garden. The leaves looked a rich green even in the darkness.

"Look," Jarod sat down on her bed to create a less hostile atmosphere that he knew he needed if he wanted there to be any chance that she might help him.

She hesitated, then sat down across from him, careful to keep her distance.

She didn't seem to mind the water still dripping from her body and his wet clothes soaking the comforter.

"So?" she asked, her voice neutral. In her case that was great compared to her usual intimidating tone.

"Look, I know that you don't want to help me and that you cannot imagine any situation in which you would be okay with actually aiding me in anything, but…"

She interrupted him harshly. "We're past that, aren't we, Jarod?" And then she added in a much deeper voice that was soaked with bitter sarcasm: "In other words: Get to the point."

He took a deep breath. "There is this girl…"

He paused slightly, half-expecting her to interrupt again, telling him that she would not give him any advise concerning his love life, but she simply cocked an eyebrow at him.

"She is ten years old and I met her while I was posing as a child therapist. Her name is Amanda."

A search for any emotion in her face did not turn up any results. Miss Parker could have been a statue for what it was worth, so he decided to continue.

"Amanda suffers from severe anxiety. She does not talk to anybody but simply curls up in bed and even cries rarely. I was completely unable to get through to her. So was anyone else."

He paused, images of the sad little girl flashing through his mind. He'd tried anything but nothing had suceeded.

"I was there to find her mother's killer and I did. He'd been a collegue of her mother's and had been secretly stalking her for a while. He shot her in front of her daughter's eyes."

There was still no reaction at all from Miss Parker. She sat perfectly still and waited for him to continue. A sight to behold, he thought. Very unusual.

"It was my goal in the first place to find out who had done this and make him pay but…" he trailed off. What? He had for once not been able to help the victims? Or had he never really been able to help at all? Had justice ever been able to heal any of the wounds that people had suffered?

"… but then I realized that it would not help Amanda. I tried to get through to her for weeks but she did not respond to anything."

Miss Parker's voice was husky when she asked: "What the hell do you want me to do then?"

The sound of the rain and the distant rolling of thunder filled the silence between them that he allowed to rise because he was sure that she knew exactly what he was here for.

She pulled the towel more tightly around her body and looked away from him, now self-conscious for the first time this evening.

"If you think that I can help this girl just because I lived through the same nightmare," she stated. "Jarod, you are even dumber than I thought."

There was a momentary silence in which he pondered whether it had been futile to come here in the first place.

"The last time I checked you didn't have a heart of stone, Miss Parker," he finally said. She did not look insulted but simply shook her head apologetically.

"Oh Jarod, I never understood your pathetic little concept of hearts of stones and great heroics, but apart from that: It is not the reason."

He sighed. "Then what is the reason? You've never been shy to team up with me when it worked to your advantage."

She smiled a curt little smile.

"Of course not. But how on earth do you think would a twisted, arrogant, socially incompetent dragon like me do any good when it comes to the healing of that girl's soul?"

She paused but he remained silent, encouraging her to continue.

"Even if I was willing to voluntarily spend my time with you or some kid that doesn't talk, I would probably make everything worse. Did you ever consider that option?"

Poor romantic Jarod. Miss Parker was almost amused. A girl who had suffered a similar fate to hers and a woman whose soul was more scarred than any body could ever be. Didn't he know that inside her there was even more darkness than she displayed to the outside world?

"You are not a bad person, Miss Parker." Jarod sounded as if he was pleading and although she would have expected to feel triumphant at that tone of voice coming from him, she detested it.

"This is not about being a bad person or a good person. This is simple logic, Jarod. Even if your logic abilities seem to be incapacitated by your overwhelming desire to help you should be able to see my point!"

She felt unable to remain seated next to him and got to her feet. He watched as she paced in front of him and she could not have cared less whether he was staring at her face or her bare legs. The water had dried on her skin and only left smudged traces of foam behind. The moist towel clung to her skin and she was feeling the cold from outside for the very first time that evening.

The rain was still hammering against the plastic chairs in the garden that she never used because she did not care to invite anyone to barbecues. The leaves of the trees that shaded her property from other peoples' rustled in the wind.

Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She had never gotten over what had happened in the past but she did not care to confront her demons now.

And there was something else. Although Miss Parker was not the most altruistic of persons she did hate the thought of messing a little girl up entirely simply because she was battling her own demons to come to terms with a past that was still very much her present.

As if he had read her thoughts Jarod was suddenly next to her and gently put his hand on her elbow. He knew that she didn't like to be touched so the contact between his hand and her skin was only just perceptible.

"Do you want her past to be her future?"

She looked up at Jarod and croaked: "I don't want to be pulled into one of your weird shemes, Jarod. I am not the kind of person who travels to god-knows-where just to try to get someone's head straight."

He looked at her, his face half obscured by shadows.

"You can try," he simply said. "It cannot get much worse than it is right now."  
Miss Parker took a deep breath. "Where does she live?"

He smiled. "Nice try. I won't tell you where I live right now. You either come along or you don't. It's up to you."

He removed his hand from her elbow and she took a step back, unwilling to encourage him to touch her again. With her vulnerable side exposed she felt as naked as she was.

"I don't think I can help her," she tried again, but realized that her protest was weak. She really needed to get away from the Centre for a while, she thought. Even though she would never be able to fully escape, a vacation would be very welcome indeed. And being with Jarod she could be sure that he'd do anything to keep the prying eyes of the Centre away from them. It sounded like heaven.

The downside, though, was that she would have to spend time with Jarod who would probably take advantage of every opportunity to push her buttons.

"You can arrange for some time off when we're at the airport," he offered.

She could get away right now, she thought. It was very tempting to simply throw some things into a suitcase and set off to a yet unknown location.

Miss Parker thought of the little girl and found that her heart contracted again just as it had done when Jarod had first spoken of the child. Was she turning into a softy or was she just seeing herself in Amanda?

Going with him would mean giving up a lot of the security that her meaness and arrogance provided for. If she wanted to try to deal with a little girl she would have to expose her soft side. That side that had been bruised a few times too often.

"I can't," she said, a little more loudly than she had intended to.

Jarod didn't say anything and simply looked at her just like he had always done. She felt as if she had gone back in time to the times of her childhood when he had always looked at her with that knowing stare. God, she had known that he knew her better than most other people did. They'd always had that connection that comes from spending a relevant part of your childhood together.

She was supposed to hate him and catch him, but right now all she wanted was a break from all that madness. She just couldn't gather up the strength to rebuild her cold façade right now.

"You can leave whenever you want," he assured her.

She looked at him for a moment, then motioned towards the stairs.

"My suitcase is in the cupboard downstairs. Get the big one."

**…to be continued…**


	2. Two

**Disclaimer:** None of this is mine.

**Author's Note:** If you can find the X-Files reference I'll…give you a cookie. ;-P

**2**

Miss Parker watched the wipers tirelessly push aside the masses of rain that were pattering against the windshield while she half-listened to the water that was splashed up into the air at both sides of the car. The sky was dark and the lights of the few other cars caused confusing reflections in the puddles of water that seemed to be everywhere.

"Lifesavers?"

She was somewhat startled by Jarod's hand that suddenly appeared in front of her offering candy, while his gaze was still fixed at the road.

"No thanks. You can save my life by concentrating on the traffic," she replied.

They hadn't spoken much since he had silently observed her pack her clothes and toiletries into a suitcase. She had watched his motionless frame with the ruffled hair that was still dripping with water and thought of the day he had escaped into the snow as a child. Back then he had declared that the liquid on his cheeks had been melted snow and although she had known better, she hadn't said anything. It had been a long time ago since she had held back words to protect someone from being embarrassed.

"Now where are we headed?" she finally asked. Jarod had made sure that she left her cell-phone behind and she also expected him to watch her every move once they'd have arrived at their destination. He didn't want to be caught, he wanted to help the child, so he would have arranged for precautions and might as well tell her where they were going.

"Portland," he said without looking at her.

Miss Parker had made that mistake before so she asked: "Maine or Oregon?"

They had just entered the airport's parking lot and Jarod finally looked at her.

"Oregon."

Miss Parker struggled to hide her shock. How could he? He, too, must remember that Portland, Oregon had been the city Thomas had bought a house for them in. Where she had been supposed to find happiness which she hadn't. She swallowed and narrowed her eyes, fighting back unwanted tears.

"You should have mentioned that little detail," she said accusingly.

"I have now," he replied, expertly moving the car into a tiny space.

Miss Parker pushed the door open and put up the collar of her black coat against the weather. Even after the short way to the main-building from the parking-lot, her hair was soaked and rain was dripping from her face.

"It's raining a lot in Portland," Jarod said and she gave him a dark look.

"All I hear is Portland," she grumbled, anxious to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her lips together and waited for Jarod to check them in. There weren't many people waiting at the check-in for their flight at this late hour, so they quickly proceeded into the waiting hall.

"I'll get us some coffee," Jarod announced and vanished around a corner, leaving her slumped in a comfortable seat, her handbag pressed to her chest. Thomas had been dead for two years now and she had successfully come over her grief. She still missed him but it wasn't the heartwrenching feeling it had been in the beginning. She of all people knew best that time did in fact not heal wounds, but that it helped anyhow.

The thing was the house. Thomas hadn't had any family left and obviously he had changed his will a short time before his death so that she inherited the only valuable thing he owned. Back then she hadn't been able to face the prospect of seeing with her own eyes what should have become her future, so she had handed the matter over to her lawyer with instructions to maintain the building and rent it out, but not inform her of anything.

She hadn't wanted to know, but now she knew that if she was in the same city, the desire to go there would be too strong to ignore.

Jarod returned with the coffee and she took a sip of the comforting hot liquid.

"Wow, this is actually drinkable," she joked. "I'm used to much worse."

He grinned and took a sip himself. They sat in oddly comfortable silence for a moment, then Jarod cleared his throat.

"You were right. I should have told you we were heading for Portland."

She shrugged. "Big deal."

But he wasn't finished yet. "There's something else…"

She looked at him and felt herself shiver with the chill her wet hair gave her.

"I rented a house there."

"No!" Miss Parker knew what he was going to say even before he did say it and lurched forward, desperate to lash out at him.

"If you rented the house Thomas left me, I swear I am going to kill you, bastard!" she shouted and the few people that were around looked up, startled and embarassed at the woman's sudden outburst. Miss Parker wouldn't have been Miss Parker if she could have cared any less.

"Well, I thought…"

He grabbed her fists in his hands and looked into her blazing blue eyes. Thomas had been his friend, too and when he had found out that the house was vacant, he had been unable to resist the temptation. The moment he had stepped into the hall he had realized how much Thomas had wanted Miss Parker to be happy.

"You thought!" she snarled, the plastic cup of coffee at her feet on the floor. "Why do you always have to make decisions for me? Why do you force me to confront that nice little piece of my past, too?"

Jarod didn't know what to say. Yes, he was playing god again. He had decided that it was time for her to face her demons concerning Thomas' death and hadn't bothered to get her opinion.

"I'm sorry. We can stay in a hotel," he offered, but she didn't listen but simply got up and shot him a dark glare. "If you're looking for me: I am at the bar."

* * *

The atmosphere was still icy when they were in another car in another city going down another wet road with even more rain pouring down the windshield. Miss Parker was looking out the window into the night when they approached a wealthy suburb.

From the corners of his eyes Jarod could see that she was biting her lip. She was right. None of this was fair.

She looked almost scared when they finally turned into the driveway of an unattached two story house that was obviously old but very well maintained. She looked up into the dark windows and closed her eyes, then opened them again.

"I am not sure I want to go in there," she said quietly, her voice almost child-like.

He was surprised but not unhappy. He would have expected her to waltz in and comment on the house as if it was just any other house. For once she was showing her feelings and he suddenly felt drawn to her as he always did when the person she really was emerged from beneath all the ice and anger.

"We can wait another moment if you like," he said and she nodded slowly.

"Okay."

For a moment the silence was only interrupted by the raindrops on the car roof. The house had grown familiar to Jarod during the last few months but he tried to see it through her eyes now. The house had been built from white brick with large new windows that were Thomas' handywork. Large trees shaded the garden and a bench stood next to a small pond that had never been finished.

The house looked inviting with its red roof and white walls and that was what Miss Parker seemed to think, too.

"Let's go in," she said and he touched her arm, making her wince slightly.

"Are you sure?"

She snorted. "Well, we can't stay out here all night, can we?" She reached for the doorhandle and pushed it open, then got out. He heard the determined staccato of her high heels on the ground as she approached the door while he followed with her suitcase. Finally he unlocked the front-door, then stepped aside to let her walk in first.  
She walked past him slowly and blinked against the sudden light as he flipped the switch. The hall was impressive and one was reminded of the grand past this house must have lived. Jarod knew that Thomas had purchased it for a prize that was far below its actual value because it had been in such desolate condition. Now it must be worth quite a lot more than then.

The whole house had parquet flooring that Thomas had restored and replaced with great care. To the left was a large window into the garden and a staircase that led onto the first floor. To the right a large living room and kitchen opened, also equipped with large windows.

Miss Parker took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"It's beautiful."

"I know."

He followed her into the living room that after Thomas' death had been furnished expensively by the lawyer who had hoped to rent the house to rich people and had succeeded until the couple who had lived there for the last few years had returned to their native Britain.

There were three large bedrooms on the first floor of which two had patio doors opening onto balconies.

"This is a great house," Miss Parker said weakly. "Shows me again how much life sucks."

Great, at three o'clock in the morning he had confronted her with everything she had lost again and tomorrow she would have to suffer through the sight of a little girl who had lost her mother which would remind her of how she had lost hers.

For a moment Jarod wondered whether he was truly as arrogant as Miss Parker always claimed. Had he really believed that this would work? That he could help two people at the same time?

Miss Parker had turned away from him to look out into the darkness and now turned back. Her eyes were cold again.

"I hope you don't plan on standing there all night because I'm quite tired," she said, cocked an eyebrow at him and vanished inside the bathroom, slamming the door into his face.

* * *

When Miss Parker walked back into her room Jarod was gone and she could hear the shower in the other bathroom. Good- at least he didn't want to talk about all this.

She walked over to the bed and lay down on the cushions. Although she was tired, her mind was still spinning with the evening's revelations.

She had called Sydney earlier, instructing him to give the Centre notice that she had taken a vacation. Although he had asked, she had answered no questions, but hung up quickly.

And here she was, far away from everything but still very much at home in her own sad little world.

Miss Parker snuggled into the pillows and tried to imagine the little girl she was supposed to help somehow. Maybe she felt just like her. Alone and scared and angry that how some higher power had taken away all her hopes for a better future.

She closed her eyes and stretched her legs, willing herself to relax and before she knew it exhaustion had taken over and she was fast asleep.

* * *

Jarod approached the closed door to Miss Parker's bedroom and knocked tentatively. There was no answer and his heart began to beat faster. What if she had decided that his stupid games would not be tolerated and that she would leave for the next phone to return with a Sweeper team? Well, she would have had to notice that the door was locked and the security system was set to a code she didn't know, but she was creative…

Before he could finish his rather complicated inner ramblings he had hurriedly opened the door and found himself in front of the bed gazing down at Miss Parker's sleeping frame. There was no sunlight to illuminate the room and the rain was still coming down though not as heavily as it had the night before. She was on her side, facing the door and her face looked more relaxed than he had ever seen it. From a few trips to her house in the past he knew that she was very prone to nightmares. In fact she had mostly been thrashing and wimpering when he had crept through her bedroom. This peace was unusual.

He remained in the doorway for a moment and took in her slightly parted lips, the black hair and the long bare leg that wasn't obscured by the covers.

Ironically she didn't strike him as the sleeping dragon he knew she actually was. While he was still engrossed in the unfamiliar sight, she roused and lifted her head.

"Staring?" she asked in a raspy voice heavy with sleep.

"Just… waiting for you to get up. I made breakfast."

She sat up and shook her hair out of her face. "I don't eat breakfast. As long as you have a cup of strong coffee ready for me, I don't care what you do."

Jarod wondered fleetingly why he had branded her peaceful only a few moments before because right now she was as edgy as ever. Miss Parker walked past him into the bathroom and didn't spare him another glance.

Half an hour later she arrived downstairs, showered and dressed in black slacks and a grey cashmere sweater. At least she had not picked a suit. Those always made her look scary to children and that was what Amanda needed least of all right now.

Miss Parker sat down at the table and surveyed the choice of breakfast foods. Jarod, munching through his second bowl of cereal already, followed her gaze to the three different boxes of cereal and the various spreadings like peanut butter, jelly and something very chocolaty.

"How come you aren't overweight… correction: obese with all that sugary stuff you indulge in?" she asked, helping herself to a mug of coffee.

"I move around a lot," he said, grinning.

She leaned back in her chair in the comfortable living room and snuck a look around. You had a good look into the rich garden from almost every angle in the room and although it was gloomy outside even at eleven in the morning, the spacious room with its high windows created the illusion of being flooded with light.

Jarod decided not to return to the dreaded topic of his luring her here and instead offered her more coffee which she accepted with a nod.

"Well, will we be seeing Amanda today already?" she asked, obviously trying not to succumb to the room and all its implications.

"I will definetly go and pay her a visit later, but I am not sure whether you're ready yet."

"So you think being confronted with this house has finished me off and I'll need more time to recover?" she snapped, slamming the coffee cup down so that some of the dark liquid spilled over the edges and onto the table. "Don't worry. You should know that all the things about my past that you tend to throw at me, have made me quite resistant to situations like this."

Jarod felt his throat constrict slightly. It had always been fun to watch her explode and get into a rage because of his giving her bits and pieces of a greater picture she knew he did understand and she didn't. Jarod had willingly admitted to the small part of him that was sadistic and enjoyed Miss Parker's outbursts with some sort of righteousness, but now was the first time that he actually admitted to himself what he had always known: Miss Parker's rage was and had always been a way to try to hide the fact that she was in fact grieving and sad. With that revelation he suddenly felt sick. These days with her seemed to reveal more of their relationship than he had expected and it wasn't nice to be confronted with your own dark side when you had successfully been telling yourself that you didn't have one.

Miss Parker watched Jarod and wondered what was going on in that head of his. He had been silent for an uncharacteristically long time now.

"Earth to Jarod," she snapped. "Something wrong?"

He looked at her, snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head as if to chase something away.

"No, I was just thinking."

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm soaking her voice.

Jarod ignored her comment. "And I was not alluding to the effect this house has or doesn't have on you. What I was talking about was that we will have to prepare you for your role."

Miss Parker blanched. "What?"

Jarod grinned although it didn't look as delighted as usual.

"Well, obviously I told them you were a child-psychologist."  
Miss Parker growled.

"You must understand that they wouldn't let everyone have access to a child in that condition."

Her reaction now merely consisted of a dark stare.

"And I couldn't tell them you were from the US because they would have checked that. So I had to tell them you were from another country."

Miss Parker's sense of foreboding turned out to be justified.

"Well and so I would advice you to adopt a German accent."

"German?! You made me a German?" she shrieked. "I went to boarding school in Greece, I speak perfect Russian and Japanese. My French might be a little rusty but it could have been improved in a matter of days. And you make me a German? I don't speak a word of German, damnit!"

Jarod at least had the grace to look slightly sheepish and hide his amusement at her outburst.

"I'm sorry. I did a little research and there is a very renowed psychologist in Germany. She hasn't been attending any congresses and is generally reclusive although she has written some groundbreaking papers in the field. Nobody would be able to find out you aren't her."

"Except for the case that they try to talk to me about psychology or try their high school German on me."

Jarod reached over the table and almost caught her hand before she violently pulled it back.

"Don't worry. I'll be with you all the time. I'm a Pretender, remember?"

"But I am not a Pretender," she said with a heavy German accent that bordered on the Russian.

"You shouldn't pronounce the 'r's that much," Jarod advised and she narrowed her eyes.

"You are damn lucky that I am not throwing the coffee cup at your smug little head, wonderboy."

Jarod chuckled. As far as dealings with Miss Parker went, this had gone quite smoothly.

…**to be continued…**


	3. Three

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **Thanks for your reviews! I hope they'll only increase in numbers along with the amount of JMPR. ;-)

**3**

The children's home was an old mansion that looked charming even against the grey sky whose clouds seemed to rest on the roof of the building. The huge property was secured by a high iron fence with a gate that swung open effortlessly when Jarod keyed in the access code.

"This doesn't look like your average movie nuthouse," Miss Parker commented as they drove down a wound path that was lined by old trees. In the distance she could see a playground with a couple of swings that idly moved in the wind.

"This is not a nuthouse, Miss Parker. It is a home for children who have lost their parents and are thus under supervision from therapists to receive the support they need."

She hid her smile at his words that were delivered with a very soft edge to his voice. No matter how much he taunted _her _he was gentle enough with the ones who needed his help.

The car came to a halt in front of the building and Jarod told her to wait, then rounded the car and held an umbrella out for her.

"Oh my, thank you," she said. "Have these good manners appeared out of nowhere?"

Jarod smiled and whispered into her ear: "In case someone sees us. They would be curious if I didn't treat Doctor Sommer with all due respect. Now follow me, Doctor Freud."

He held the door open for her and she winced at his use of the nickname she usually tried to annoy Sydney with. Unfortunately when it came to her, the elderly psychiatrist seemed to be unannoyable which was deeply unsatisfying for Miss Parker who took great pride in being able to set anybody off. God, Sydney would have a field day with this.

He would probably launch a whole psychoanalysis at her if he knew that she was about to try to pass off as someone who specialized in the human mind when most of the time she had no idea what was going on with her own.

The hall was as gloomy as the day outside but as they followed the corridor down into a large room, all traces of gloominess were chased away immediatley.

A number of children sat at two long tables eating their lunch. Some were concentrating avidly on their sandwiches while others were pulling the salad out or trying to smear peanut butter into their neighbour's hair.

The whole situation was easily summarized: Miss Parker's worst nightmare.

She hated everything that had to do with noise, sticky things and –most of all- children. She stiffened immediately but tried to loosen up since she was supposed to be a child-loving psychologist who actually understood what these little heads were all about.

One of the little boys looked up and she could see the mischief glittering in his eyes. She narrowed hers and gave him a stare that would have melted Broots to the floor in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately this kid didn't seem to care how dangerous she was, but raised one arm in order to throw a half eaten, half melted chocolate bar at her.

Miss Parker had never actually been grateful for anyone to grab her arm before, but now she was incredibly relieved when she felt Jarod's hand pull her into the opposite direction towards a young woman who was busy wiping a particulary messy looking child's face with a napkin.

"Jenny!" Jarod called out and the woman got up to her full height to look at them. She had blond frizzy hair and freckles in a face devoid of any make-up that obviously never did anything else than smile.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of Jarod and Miss Parker sighed inwardly. Why did every woman under 50 have the hots for him? This was getting more than just annoying. He wasn't all that hot anyway.

"Good to see you again, Jarod!" the young woman beamed and Miss Parker had a hard time preventing herself from rolling her eyes.

"And you must be Dr Sommer!" Jenny said in a voice that, to Miss Parker, sounded horribly shrieky, like that of a nervous teenager. She seemed to think for a moment, then slowly said: "_Herzlich willkommen auf Amerika_."

The only word that Miss Parker could make sense of was America. The rest was completely lost on her.

"Thank you," she said, guessing that the girl must have just welcomed her to the US.

"Jenny is taking care of the kids around here," Jarod explained to her. _And she's following you around like a lapdog_, Miss Parker added silently. Did he ever notice when a girl wanted him? Miss Parker couldn't help but feel a little amused although there was something else that she hurried to repress immediatley.

"How is Amanda doing?" Jarod asked before Miss Parker could deliver a mean comment in the horrible German accent Jarod had made her practice during the whole duration of the drive.

"As usual," Jenny answered. "I bet she missed you." She looked embarassed for a moment, then turned to Miss Parker.

_Bet you missed staring at him more, little Miss Sunshine…_

"Can you understand us well?" she asked slowly. Although it pissed Miss Parker off to be treated like a child, she needed to supress a chuckle at the horrified expression on Jarod's face. He was quite obviously afraid she would blow her cover before she had even laid eyes on Amanda, but as usual he underestimated her.

"Thank you," Miss Parker said as graciously as she could. "I am in basic control of the English language."

Jenny nodded in a hectic way. "Yeah! You don't have an accent at all!"

Miss Parker raised an eyebrow. "Really? I have been told that people could barely understand me," she said with the worst accent she could muster. Jenny winced, obviously unsure what to say. Miss Parker gave her a wide smile.

Jarod decided that his companion had taunted Jenny enough for the moment and cut in before she could abash her any further.

"Please, Doctor Sommer. I'll show you to Amanda's bedroom."

Maybe it was the sense of incredible freedom of being away from the Cente for a while or just the fact that Jenny's obvious infatuation with Jarod annoyed Miss Parker to no end, but she placed her hand on Jarod's shoulder and motioned for him to wait. The anxious look in his eyes delighted her more than she cared to admit.

Jenny leaned forward slightly, her frizzy hair standing in all directions while her childlike face looked at her attentively.

"It was good to meet you. It is good to have such a loose woman around."

There was a moment of shocked silence after which Jenny directed her horrified gaze at Jarod who looked as if he wanted to strangle Miss Parker on the spot.

"That is what you say for a warm open person, isn't it, dear?" Miss Parker said sweetly. She was grabbed by the arm for the second time that day and gave a cheery wave to a flabbergasted Jenny while Jarod practically dragged her out of the room.

The hallway on the second floor was painted a warm yellow and framed children's drawings lined it. One of the curtains was smeared with chocolate- probably courtesy to the young boy who had attempted to ruin Miss Parker's favourite pullover earlier.

"What did you think you were doing?" Jarod hissed, careful for the children in the adjoining rooms not to overhear their impending argument. There was no need to keep his voice low, however, because the children were yelling and playing loudly enough.

"I was playing my role perfectly," Miss Parker replied innocently. "I was simply aiming for some credibility. She would wonder why my vocabulary is perfect while my accent is… well… grotesque."

Jarod gave her a look that told her that he didn't believe a single word she said.

"Yes, but there was no need to basically accuse ofof being a woman of questionable virtue!"

Miss Parker couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"What did you just call her? How very victorian, Jarod!"

Jarod didn't know whether he was supposed to be angry or awed. He had been the object of her mean jokes too often to be surprised by what she had done to poor Jenny, but what fascinated him was the fact that she was actually laughing. He hadn't seen her laugh in years except for the sarcastic chuckles she sometimes gave or the triumphant yet humourless laughter she'd presented him with on a few occasions when she'd thought she'd finally caught him.

This was different. She looked actually amused and was chuckling slightly which turned her usually stony face to life.

Although she possessed all the characteristics of a classic beauty, he had never before really considered her beautiful because the animation was usually missing from her features. Now it was there with the cheerful look on her face. It didn't matter that it was only there because she had once again done what she did best: Intimidate people. It was there and that was all that mattered to him.

"I'm sorry…" she finally said although she did not look sorry at all. For that she was far too busy trying to hide a triumphant grin. "You know… I'd rather lose a friend than waste a good joke."

When he failed to say anything even at something as rare as an apology coming from her, she fell silent, too and cocked her head.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

Jarod opened his mouth but was afraid that unwanted words would tumble out which he would not be able to take back.

"Miss Parker, I…" he began and only noticed that he had adressed her by the wrong name when he had already said it. She shook her head and he was glad that she was about to interrupt his ramblings, when suddenly the smile slid off her face just like her blouse had in the bathroom the day before. She was staring at something behind Jarod's back and he turned around to find Amanda standing in the doorway.

She looked tiny and pale as usual, her dark hair framing her anxious-looking face from which large somewhat empty eyes were staring up at them. She had cradled a teddybear to her chest and simply stood motionless, waiting to be noticed.

He turned around and touched her shoulder lightly. There was no sign that she recognized him, but she willingly followed them back into the room none of the other kids wanted to share with her because they had branded her "creepy".  
Amanda sat down on the bed and fixed her unsettling gaze on Miss Parker who looked uneasy immediatley. She wasn't good with children at all and they tended to notice that.

Miss Parker swallowed and looked at Jarod as if searching for approval and so he nodded.

"Hi Amanda. I'm Par…I'm Susanne."

She had almost thrown her spoon at him when he had made her practise the German pronounciation of the name for what seemed like the hundredth time but now she was doing remarkably well.

The little girl didn't answer but neither of them had expected her to.

Miss Parker hesitated, then simply looked at Jarod for help. He had told her before that she would have to gain Amanda's trust before she could try talking to her for real.

What he hadn't told her was that he had no idea whether this whole experiment stood any chance of working at all. It was most likely that Amanda would remain as unresponsive as she was right now and never take to Miss Parker or anyone else.

He sat down next to Amanda and did what he always did. He told her what he had been up to during the last days and explained how he had flown to Delaware and how he had spilled his lemonade all over himself. Any other child would have laughed at the thought but Amanda simply looked at Jarod with her large eyes. At least she seemed to be listening at all.

After a while he glanced at Miss Parker who had sat down on the unoccupied other bed and looked lost. He didn't notice that Amanda's gaze had followed his and fixed on Miss Parker's face who was biting her lower lip again, probably trying to replace her emotional pain with physical one.

"Miss Parker?" he addressed her softly enough, but she was so startled that she bit her lip for real this time. She had suffered worse injuries by far in her life, but she still gave a little yelp with pain as blood began to run down her chin.

"Oh Parker!" Jarod approached her quickly and gently put his handkerchief to her bleeding lip. He didn't mind that she didn't like to be touched right now, but was eager to lessen Parker's pain and at the same time anxious to hide the blood from Amanda.

Miss Parker looked up into Jarod's eyes and felt like a stupid little girl that had to be comforted by a grown-up. It was only for seconds that she allowed herself to indulge in the feeling of someone taking care of her, then she took the handkerchief away from him and stood up quickly.

That was when she saw Amanda who had curled up on her bed, buried her head in the teddybear's fur and rocked herself back and forward slightly.

"Oh no!" Jarod muttered, then walked over to Amanda and carefully put her covers over her and then stepped back again.

Miss Parker's lip was throbbing but her concern was for once directed at someone else.

"Aren't you going to comfort her at all?" she whispered, eyes glued to the tiny girl.

"No," Jarod whispered back, now so close to her that their cheeks almost touched. "We've tried many times when was in that condition, but she will only start thrashing."

Miss Parker's speech was slightly muffled by the handkerchief that was dotted with dark red spots already: "It was the sight of the blood that caused this, wasn't it?"

He nodded, trying not to inhale her scent.

"So it's my fault…"

"No. I shouldn't have startled you."

"No, I shouldn't have…" She interrupted herself midsentence and smiled which made her wince in pain a second later. "I was just thinking about how nicely we are treating each other. Quite the change…," she whispered conspirationally.

"Let's go outside so when can get some ice for your lip," he offered but she shook her head.

"Has she ever become like this because of blood before?" she asked and Jarod frowned.

"Not as far as I know. Her anxiety attacks are usually triggered by loud noises that resemble gunshots. Like slammed doors. Happens here quite often," he added with a sad smile.

Miss Parker looked lost in her own thoughts for a moment, then carefully removed the handkerchief from her mouth. Amanda was still staring at nothing in particular and if she had seen the movement, she didn't show it.

"I would like to try something if you allow me to," Miss Parker said. Her lip was already slightly swollen and dried blood stuck to her chin.

"Don't you want to clean up first?" Jaord asked, but she just shook her head.

"That's the whole point. Stay where you are."

Even while spoken quietly, her command did not allow for objections, so Jarod did as he was told, standing in the middle of the room with an uneasy feeling. Was he doing the right thing in allowing her to do as she thought was right? She wasn't exactly known to be very considerate. What if…?

Miss Parker approached the bed and sat on its edge like someone who settled down for telling a goodnight story. She carefully reached out for Amanda and let her hand linger over her hair before she brushed her fingertips against it.

Jarod could barely make out the words she said to Amanda: "Look up, little one. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Amanda remained holding on to her teddybear as if for dear life. Miss Parker didn't let this worry her and carefully wiped a strand of hair from Amanda's forehead, brushing her nose with her index-finger. Then she touched her hand to the blood that was still welling up from her lip and brought her thumb and index-finger together, smearing it.

The muscles in Jarod's back tightened. He hadn't expected her to torture the child. Had he been wrong? Was Miss Parker once again acting on her mean streak and trying to scare this already terrified child as she frequently did with Broots?

But he couldn't have been more wrong.

"Look, it's just a little blood. It doesn't hurt too much and it is not dangerous, see?"

Miss Parker patted her bottom lip with the handkerchief again, but did not wince this time.

Amanda's gaze focused for the first time and alarm crossed her face as she focused on Miss Parker fingers.

"Don't be afraid," Miss Parker soothed in a tone of voice that Jarod had never heard from her before. That was how she would talk to her own children, he realized with sudden clarity.

"I know that the last time you've seen something like this, something horrible happened, but I'm fine, you see? I will not die. Just look a little strange for a day or two."

For a moment nothing happened, then Amanda sat up and reached for Miss Parker's hand. She winced very slightly when Amanda's little fingers closed around hers and brought her hand closer for inspection.

After a long while Amanda looked up at Miss Parker and her eyes didn't look as void anymore. Jarod breathed a sigh of relief at the scene. Amanda usually remained in that state for at least a few hours without anything they'd been able to do.

Miss Parker smiled and carefully reached out to touch Amanda's hair again. The girl leaned into the touch and then tentatively snuggled into Miss Parker's shoulder. The woman brought her arm around the girl and slowly began to stroke her back.

Jarod had no idea how she had done it, but he knew that it would be okay to leave the two of them alone for a while. When he was at the door he turned back one last time and saw that there was a lonely tear sliding down Miss Parker's cheek.

… **to be continued** …


	4. Four

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **My notebook died this weekend and I am still in mourning. At least I can use my dad's old one that was manufactured around 1870 until I have a new one…

**4**

Miss Parker felt emotionally drained when she stepped into the hall and softly closed the door behind her. For a moment she leaned back against her fists that had firmly closed around the doorknob and took a deep shuddering breath. She had never liked trips down memory lane. Maybe that was because memory lane –in her case- was usually not anymore pleasant than your average dark horrormovie alley.

Her bottom lip still felt sore and she carefully grazed the wound with her teeth, then winced slightly. At least it had helped her to establish contact with the little girl. Amanda hadn't spoken a word, but after Miss Parker had simply held her for a while, she had fallen asleep.

Parker listened to the silence and then took in the warm glow from the nightlights that were visible through the half-opened doors of children's rooms around her.

She must have been in there for hours, she now noticed.

After a while she hadn't been able to tell how quickly time passed by. She had been absorbed in memories of her own childhood trauma. Of how she had avoided the elevators for weeks at length, how every noise that even closely resembled a gunshot had startled her. The horror was still very present in her mind and the old fear welled up. But then there was the constant breathing of the child in her arms and when she had caressed her hair and held her safe, she knew she had in a way also been holding the frightened child inside herself.

She slowly went for the stairs, bracing herself for the inevitable cheerfulness of Jenny and the fact that she would have to return to the accent that she had dropped while talking to Amanda.

The lower hallway was lit and she could see pictures of the children with a tall middle-aged woman with a shock of grey hair and laughter lines around her eyes. Curiously, the woman reminded Miss Parker of Sydney in a way. Not that she looked masculine in any way, but even on the pictures she radiated the same comforting kindness that she had once found in Sydney. Suddenly a pang of longing for her older friend struck her. She didn't just want to see him, but also talk to him and let herself be comforted just like when she had been a young girl.

Miss Parker shook her head. Being comforted was a thing of the past. Hadn't experience taught her how elemental it was to remain independent from others? The moment she gave in to her stupid longing for nearness she would put the person in danger of the Centre and herself in danger of losing yet another loved one.

She opened the door to the nearest room behind which she detected the murmur of voices and stepped into a kitchen that had large windows into the garden. The woman from the pictures stood in front of a sink with Jarod cleaning an assortment of colorful mugs that were adorned with flowers and teddybears. A little bit too cute for Miss Parker's liking but since they were obiously intended for the children…

"Doctor Summer!" The grey-haired woman turned around. She was a little older than on the pictures – even closer to Sydney's age, Miss Parker noticed. She dried her slim hands on a tea towel and shook Miss Parker's hand firmly.

Miss Parker couldn't help but smile when she looked into intelligent green eyes that looked even kinder in reality.

"My name is Angela Gardner. I'm the manager around here."

She handed her a green cup that had obviously been painted by a child and grinned. That grin was the only thing that kept Miss Parker from commenting on the artwork and calling it the work of an amateur.

"We drink coffee around here at all hours."

Miss Parker took a sip and tried not to look as distraught as she really was. Even if she hadn't been playing a role, she wouldn't have wanted anyone to see just how much the little girl's predictament got to her. Deep down she knew that she wasn't really unsympathetic but that she was quite good at blocking those feelings out. Except when she knew too well how it felt.

Back then when she had just lost her mother and her father had been distant, she had read the phrase that someone's heart was bleeding in a book. She had imagined the blood to gush out of her heart and soak her clothes when the grief had been so strong that she had barely been able to contain it. And somehow it had helped to imagine it pouring out although she hadn't been able to show it to anyone. Her father had told her firmly to stop crying when she had tried to find comfort with him once, that she was a Parker and that she would carry her grief with her head held high…

"Doctor Summer?"

She snapped out of her contemplations only when she had heard the name for the third time.

"It's getting to you as it's getting to us, isn't it?" Jarod asked.

Miss Parker looked over at him, then nodded.

"It's a severe case," she tried to sound like the professional she wasn't.

"That's true," Angela said and handed Miss Parker a coldpack that was wrapped in a teatowel without being asked which was accepted gratefully.

"I'm sorry. I should have offered the ice to you before you could burn your lip on the coffee again," she said apologetically.

"Never mind…" Miss Parker murmured. She still thought of the little girl in the bed upstairs that was still holding to her teddybear.

"I hear you are staying with Jarod?" Angela asked and Miss Parker shot a look at Jarod for confirmation, then nodded.

"Isn't it a charming house?" Angela asked and Miss Parker was almost amused to see Jarod wince behind her back. He seemed to be thinking of her feelings for once…

"Yes. Beautiful," Miss Parker said, hoping that she would drop the topic.

"I was there once, you know," Angela said and laughed. "Jarod invited us all round for dinner when he first moved in."

Miss Parker imagined the happy dinner parties that might have taken place had she been living there with Thomas. Well, she probably wouldn't have hosted any since she had never had many friends.

"Well, you must be tired. Jet-lag and all!" Jarod said, obviously out to rescue her from any more conversation on that topic.

"I would indeed like to sleep for a bit," Miss Parker said and found herself smiling apologetically at Angela. Something she rarely –correction- never did. She usually told herself that she did not need to apologize to anyone.

Angela returned the smile warmly.

"I understand. I hope Jarod takes good care of you."

Miss Parker caught Jarod's chuckle from the corners of her eyes and shrugged.

"He's doing his best."

"How did you do it?" Jarod asked as soon as he had started the engine.

Miss Parker leaned back and enjoyed the fact that for once, he was the one asking that question.

"You should know, Jarod," she teased him, then added a lot more solemnly: "You were there too."

Jarod's face looked blank for a moment, then he shook his head. "Enlighten me."

So Miss Parker took him back to the afternoon months after her mother had been killed, when she had found herself faced with the elevator once again. Her thoughtless father had told her to wait almost in front of it, once again forgetting how much she dreaded it and had gone to a collegue's office.

Miss Parker hadn't noticed at first because most of the Centre's floors looked almost identical. She had trusted her father not to bring her close to the place where her mother had been shot down brutally and thus been unaware of her surroundings for a moment.

She had only realized on which floor she was when the elevator doors had opened and she had seen the two bulletholes that were still visible in the back of the elevator.

The Centre was very careful to not allow anything to give away the true nature of the place on the floors to which business partners were taken, but around here they were remarkably cheap.

She had looked up from the book she had been reading while she waited for her father when two Sweepers had stepped out. It had felt as if the holes were clawing at her and she dropped the book in horror. One of the Sweepers, unaware of what was happening to her, had picked it up for her and returned it but she had never looked at him again.

Her gaze had been fixed at the empty elevator just that to her, it wasn't empty. In her mind she still saw her mother's dead body in a puddle of blood.

A moment later she had found herself right inside the elevator, exactly where she hadn't been allowed to go, from where the men had held her back on the day of her mother's death, where she had so desperately wanted to be.

Now she stood there and in her imagination blood was all around her. She had been so frightened and the tears had been streaming down her face but she had been there. She had, if involuntarily, faced her demons and thus diminished them in power.

For the first time in her life Miss Parker had felt truly in control. She could do it. This was just an elevator and even if it bore the most horrifying pain imaginable, it was just that.

She could stand here and gain strength from the sight that although everything had been sprayed with blood and it had felt as if the elevator would never really be the same again, it had been cleaned.

Miss Parker had wanted to appear like that elevator to the outside world. To lock away the pain she felt and not let it errupt in panic attacks at the sight of this place.

She had cried during the whole revelation and when her father had return hurriedly, he had advised the Centre maintance to immediatley repair the bullet holes. To her, they had never vanished.

When she had calmed down a little, she had seen Jarod who had tried to get to her to comfort her, but had been held back by Sydney. Sydney… who had known even back then that sometimes you have to face what you fear most in order to overcome it.

Raindrops were running down the windows in quick succession and made a soft tapping sound that provided for some intimacy between them.

"Do you remember now?" she asked after she had finished her story.

"I do," Jarod said quietly. "I wanted to hold you and back then I didn't understand why Sydney didn't allow me to do so."

Miss Parker shook her head. "Until I saw that girl's reaction to the blood I didn't either."

"But you did now," he said softly and they both knew what he meant.

"You mean some part of me _has_ to be human?" she joked, suddenly uncomfortable with the intense look in his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered and the moment was broken. Now that he had ceased to look at her with that appreciative look in his eyes, seemed to have actually seen her as a breathing feeling human being instead of an object he taunted with weird games and cruel revelations she already missed it.

"I need dinner," she said brusquely. "I haven't eaten anything all day."

"That's not good for your ulcer," he reminded her.

"Neither are you," she said and opened the car door to step into the driveway.

Jarod followed her and unlocked the door for her.

"I should have some pizza in the fridge."

Miss Parker raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"I know you did spy on me while I was in the bathtub. Do you think I maintain that figure because I stuff my face with fastfood?"

Jarod chuckled. "Ah, sorry. I forgot what a princess you are."

She carelessly dropped her coat onto a chair when she followed him from the hallway into the kitchen. "This isn't about being a princess. There has been heard of of fat princesses. It's just that I do not like to cram myself with unneccessary calories. A concept you have obviously never heard of."

Jarod turned around to her and gestured at his trim body. "But it doesn't hurt, does it?"

She made a show of looking him up and down in a bid to prevent him from returning to serious topics and found herself liking what she saw.

"Not bad," she said and playfully bit her lip. A second later she wished she hadn't done it. Especially when Jarod broke into laughter at the look on her face.

She turned away from him to hide her embarassment and opened the fridge.

"Do you have anything drinkable?"

"Water? Coke? Juice?" he asked.

"I was thinking more in term of wine, scotch, vodka," she replied dryly.

"Your ulcer…" he reminded her and she turned around to snap at him but found only a worried look on his face. Did he actually care? She had put his constantly reminding her of what she should or should not do because of her ulcer down to his trying to annoy her but now found herself wrong.

Concern for her wellbeing always embarrassed her, especially when it came from unexpected sources, so she avoided his gaze and murmured something along the lines of "stop that….".

Miss Parker walked over to the couch and sat down.

"I could make some pasta!" Jarod called from the kitchen in order to lighten the dark mood that had suddenly settled on her.

"Sure," she replied and pulled her knees towards her while staring out of the window.

"Does it ever stop raining?" she asked.

"Not before it snows," Jarod said and looked into the garden himself. "I'm afraid November is one of the worst months around here."

"Where isn't it?"

Jarod walked back to the stove and busied himself making some pasta. Miss Parker was unusually quiet and even refrained from commenting when he dropped a fork.

He had been impressed at how she had handled the situation with Amanda today and at how gentle she could be if she wanted to be. One thing, however, had both unsettled and astonished him: Although Miss Parker had probably not noticed it herself, she had been playing her role very well. Not once had she failed to use the German accent she had developed a knack for quickly, nor had she behaved as if she wasn't Susanne Sommer in front of anyone other than him in any way during the whole day.

Had she just gained experience in not letting people see who she really was or did she have more talent as a Pretender than he had cared to expect?

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her approach until she spoke: "Oh how very gourmet of you," she said.

"Go away or you will have to go to bed without dinner!"

Miss Parker gave a snort and turned around to walk back to the sofa, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Without warning she suddenly lurched at him and tackled him down to the floor with surprising strength. Jarod gave a shocked scream when his jaw connected with the kitchen tiles.

A split second later a shower of broken glass went down at them and in his blurred vision Jarod could see a large stone that had been hauled and now crashed into the wall where he had just been standing.

… **to be continued** …


	5. Five

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **Yeahy! More reviews. Thanks to you all! ;-)

**5**

Blood was trickling down Jarod's forehead when they sat up and Miss Parker was reminded of that surreal moment when she had cradled Thomas' lifeless body in her arms, involuntarily dipping her fingers into the blood that was smeared over his temple. For a moment she felt as if the present and the past were once again merging and she gasped, reaching out for Jarod.

"Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly. Only the surprised look in his eyes at her obvious concern managed to pull her back into the present, but her hands were already all over his shoulders to check for wounds.

"Parker, careful...!" Jarod warned, but it was already too late and a thin line of blood trickled down Miss Parker's finger where she had cut herself with the pieces of glass that covered his sweater. He caught her wrists in his hands so she would not cut herself any more. "I'm okay. We're both okay," he soothed her.

Miss Parker felt embarrassed at her outburst and shied away from him, eager to find the source of the attack.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded and carefully rounded the kitchen counter half crouched to the floor.

Leaves and rain were carried through the smashed window by the merciless October wind, but she was far too agitated to shiver. Jarod followed her to the window and looked outside. The hedge looked ruffled in one corner, as if someone had climbed the fence and left in a hurry.

"Whoever it was, they didn't care to wait for us to catch them," he said. "I should get something from the basement to fix that window for tonight before the floor gets anymore wet."

Miss Parker had wrapped both her arms around her upper body against the cold and shook her head in disbelief. "That might have gotten us killed."

"Yes. If it hadn't been for you."

Miss Parker looked up at him. "I was acting on instinct. Don't you think that I actually cared about whether anybody smashed in that brilliant little head of yours!"

She was only slowly regaining her bravado, so he pretended to buy her act of not giving a damn about him. Well, she had proved the opposite to be true mere moments ago.

"Now get whatever you need to repair that nuisance and I'll take care of the glass," Miss Parker commanded and so he walked out into the hallway.

Involuntarily he found himself dwelling on the memory of her hands on his body to check whether he was okay. They had been gentle but efficient and she had seemed...

Don't go there, a voice inside him said. We're on a mission here and there's no time for wishing things to be different.

Anyways, this might as well be the confusion one sometimes felt after narrowly escaping serious injury or even death. When he returned with a large panel of chipboard, he could hear the sound of glass that was thrown into a garbage bin. She was just finished when he stepped in and watched in silence as he fixed the wooden panel to the window.

"This should do until tomorrow morning. Even if they do come back," he finally said and stepped back, admiring his handiwork.

"Okay. Now that you are finished with that, let me see your forehead," Miss Parker said in a neutral tone that had been carefully chosen to neither allow concern nor gentleness. She had to stand on her toes to inspect his face, so he lowered his head slightly for her.

Her fingers grazed the already dried blood when she pushed a few loose strands of hair back from his forehead.

"You will live," she remarked dryly after a moment and he could feel her breath on his face.

"Good," he replied.

"Now how do we find that son of a..."

"Miss Parker!" he interjected. "Keep this PG."

She gave him a dark look and turned to the stove.

"The food is burned but I'm not hungry anyway. I'll go to bed."

"Miss Parker, wait..." he wasn't sure why he wanted to keep her downstairs so badly, but he felt as if he had to try anyway.

"Do you think the Centre was behind this?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You know as well as I do that, if that was the case, they would have arrived in helicopters with blazing lights and gunshots. A stone hurled through a window is a little bit too trivial for an international syndicate, don't you think?"

"You're right..." he murmured, out of things to say. "Maybe it was just a prank."

Without another word she turned on her heel and walked out. Jarod was surprised to find himself calling her back a second time.

On her way out she paused and grabbed the doorframe so that the sleeve of her grey sweater slipped up and Jarod froze.

"Miss Parker... what?"

She realized what had happened quickly and tried to cover what had caused Jarod's confusion. But the Pretender was too fast for her and grabbed her wrist before she could.

"Miss Parker..." he repeated.

"I know my name. Thank you very much." Her attempt at being snide was betrayed by the fact that she avoided his gaze.

Jarod had to force himself to be gentle and not succumb to his desire to forcefully turn her hand around, but she didn't resist at all. As soon as he could take a good look at her palm he was assured that he hadn't been wrong. A thin scar that still looked fresh reached across her palm from her forefinger down to her wrist. It looked as if the wound had been deep, as if it had been caused by a sharp blade. Due to his medical knowledge from past pretends Jarod could tell that the scar couldn't be any older than a few weeks.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

Miss Parker simply tried to pull her hand away, but to no avail.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, but she refused to answer him.

"Let me go," she demanded, but Jarod wouldnt hear her.

"That looks as if it was done on purpose, Miss Parker. It could have used stitches. You didn't go to hospital, did you?"

Miss Parker began to jerk her hand back but he had expected her move and held on with both his hands now, carefully running his finger along the scar. When she realized that he wouldn't let go of her, she froze, probably hoping that he would finally give up if she just remained silent.

"You're hiding it," he observed. "I have only seen you in long sleeves since you've arrived here. You wouldn't be hiding it if it had been from an accident, would you?"

She looked him in the eye for the first time since he had seen the scar.

"This is none of your business, Jarod." He knew her well enough to be able to tell from the tone of her voice that she was close to surrendering and simply telling him what he wanted to know just to get away.

"That must have hurt," he said. "Who did this to you? Lyle? Your father?"

Suddenly something else appeared in her eyes and before he could ask again, rage had already overwhelmed her.

"My family might be severely dysfunctional, Jarod, but you can't honestly believe that they would simply cut me with a knife because they feel like doing something cruel!"

Jarod felt sheepish, but before he could start to apologize, she went on. That was probably the reason why she had been holding back- because she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the words once she had started saying them.

"Do you want to know who did this?" she demanded, her voice suddenly rising up.

Jarod opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"Get used to the concept of rhetorical questions, wonderboy!" she snapped.

"But I _want_ to know who did this to you! If I can do anything to help..."

She laughed angrily. "You did!" she spat at him. "It's your fault, for god's sake, that I had to walk around with a bandaged hand for a week, trying to convince Sydney I cut myself because I broke a vase!"

Jarod was finally at a loss of words.

"This scar..." Miss Parker nodded towards her hand since Jarod had caught her second hand in his, too, to hold her in place. "... is three weeks old. Remember what happened three weeks ago?"

Jard had a good memory, so he didn't need to think for long.

"The surveillance tape..." he began, but she cut him off again.

"Damn right. The surveillance tape, Jarod. It wasn't enough that you had to force me to acknowledge that my family consists of psychopaths, no! You have to remind me of it in regular intervals. I bet you get up in the morning, look in the mirror and wonder: 'Have I broken Miss Parker's heart lately? No, I think with her psychological constitution she must have picked herself up by now. Time to kick her in the face again!' And then you find another tidbit from my parents' past, like that surveillance tape. How did you think I would feel upon seeing my mother in a supermarket with an eye as black as Doctor Raines' soul? What do you think I would do faced with the fact once again that my mother was beaten by someone around here? What good did it do me? There is absolutely nothing I can do against it anymore because she is dead. And she suffered before she died. Thank you for reminding me all over again!"

Her voice had risen to a scream and tears shot into her eyes.

"Yes, I am trying to hunt you down to get my own freedom. Yes I am a bitch and I snap at people for nothing. And you... you help everyone... you're kind to everyone! But does that give you the right to torture me like that?"

A sob caught in her throat and she closed her eyes briefly, to keep the tears at bay.

Jarod didn't know what to say because all he could concentrate on was the guilt that started welling up inside him. He stared down at the light red scar and imagined what must have happened. Miss Parker seemed to sense what he was thinking.

"Look at me, Jarod."

He looked up into her eyes and all the pain he had ever caused her seemed to reflect back at him.

"You... did this to yourself?" he asked feebly.

"Yes. And I wouldn't have regretted it that badly if I had known that it would one day serve to show you just what your playing god causes."

She remembered vividly how she had driven home from the Centre the evening after she had received Jarod's package. It had contained said surveillance tape from a supermarket near Blue Cove where her mother had gone shopping. The package had been lost in the mail and so it had only been delivered to her when everyone else had gone home already. She had watched it and felt as if someone had knocked her backwards. The next morning she had barely remembered how she had got home. She only remembered the moment she had broken through her frontdoor and found herself in her house, unable to relax. Her heart had seemed to burst into a million pieces that cut numerous little wounds into her insides. The emotional pain had been so great that she had looked around for something... anything to numb it.

She had found scotch first, but not even the alcohol had been able to make her forget what she had seen. Why did she have to see her mother suffer like that? She had walked restlessly around her house, she had smashed her glass, she had smashed the bottle, she had cried until she had felt too weak to go on. Then she had seen the large knife that belonged to her kitchen set. She rarely cooked but she knew that it was sharp.

Her mind fuzzy by adrenaline and alcohol, she had taken the knife out and stared at the shiny blade. Pain. There was too much pain inside her. If she'd cut herself... Although she had known just how stupid and wrong it was, she hadn't been able to resist.

Miss Parker had never hurt herself before. It just wasn't in her nature, but that evening she was too drunk and too desperate to realize that it was no means to stay sane.

So she had simply closed her hand around the blade and squeezed until blood had run down her arm. As soon as she had seen the blood, the spell had been broken and she had dropped the knife to the floor, horrified at what she had done.

She had wrapped a towel around her hand and had fallen asleep on her couch. The next morning she had felt hungover and embarrassed, so she had cleaned the wound and bandaged it. Sydney hadn't believed her when she had told the lie about the vase, but she had been quick to evade his questions.

She snapped back to the present when Jarod finally let go of her hands. He looked horrified. Like a careless child that had only now realized the momentousness of what it had done. At least it was like that with Miss Parker.

She had been hiding her scar as well as she could with long sleeves, hoping that it would fade with time, and had simply tried to repress the memories of that night. Never had she been furious about Jarod's interventions until now.

But the fury had evaporated now and all she wanted to do was sleep and forget about the whole affair again. She knew that she should have left before this got any more out of hand, but she was just too tired. She would leave for home in the morning.

Jarod didn't protest when she walked out.

He stood in the middle of the living-room and felt a new and unwanted feeling rise inside him. He had always been the good guy. Like Robin Hood who took from the rich and gave to the poor. He had been playing his little games with the Centre crew without allowing himself to see that Miss Parker was as much a victim as he was.

He had been thinking in black and white although the world consisted of shades of grey.

The genius he was, he understood quickly that due to his long time in the Centre he had failed to develop some of the social competences other children gained automatically through contact with others. His behaviour had been normal even if it was stupid and hurtful. He just couldn't view it from that detached point of view because he felt so damn guilty.

Miss Parker had enough to deal with without him pressing her for answers she didn't have and punishing her by giving her more painful details she didn't want.

His hands were shaking and his mind felt numb, but he had to talk to her now.

When he climbed the stairs, he felt how much he wanted to talk to her, but dreaded it at the same time.

His knock was answered with a muffled: "Go away", but he entered anyway. Miss Parker was still dressed and sat on the bed, absent-mindedly brushing her dark hair. He marvelled at its rich chocolate brown as the brush went through it.

"You're beautiful..." he whispered his thoughts aloud and felt foolish immediately. Flattery would get him nowhere, even if he meant what he said.

She simply looked at him as if she knew what was going on in his head. She put the brush aside: "What do you want?"

Her voice was as clear as ever and sounded business-like.

"I... I would like to apologize..."

"Because I cut my hand? Big deal."

"No... because I was mindless. I didn't think about how my... games... would affect you."

She smiled humorlessly.

"After all these years..." she added sarcastically.

"I never wanted to see you as someboy with feelings... and at the same time I did. I... guess I felt as if I could control you in a way...as if I could make you see yourself but without seeing you myself... does that make any sense?"

She shook her head, but her face looked less tense than mere moments ago.

"What I mean is... I guess it was easier to see you for what you wanted me to see."

"Mean cold bitch," she said.

"Yes."

For a moment they just looked at each other, then Jarod took her hand and looked at her palm again.

"Did it hurt much?"

"Not as much as seeing my mother all miserable," she admitted.

"I am so..."

"You told me already, Jarod."

He looked at her and wondered how she could look so strong when she had revealed just how vulnerable she was.

"I'm not weak, you know," she said. "You don't need to think that just because I went nuts for a moment you would have to be my friend."

"We used to be friends all right," he said. "When we were kids."

She couldn't help but smile.

"Yes but that was a long time ago, Jarod. I'm not the same person anymore."

She was right.

"Yes. You are very different..." he said and he could see from the look in her eyes that she was proud of the strong woman the frightened girl had become.

"What have you done with the knife?" he asked suddenly.

"Threw it away," she replied casually. "I don't cook anyway."

Maybe it was just the tension easing away but they started laughing at the same time. Jarod was still holding on to Parker's hand and didn't care about letting it go. When they had regained their composure, Miss Parker shook her head.

"Wow. Who would have guessed only 24 hours ago that I would sit here with you and laugh my ass off about a joke that isn't even funny..."

"Yes. Who would have guessed?" he asked and smiled.

For the first time in years she smiled back comfortably.

"And we're holding hands." She playfully cocked and eyebrow at him which caused him to drop her hand immediately.

"I guess you're tired and want to sleep..." he said and quickly got to his feet. He was halfway across the room when he heard the one word she called after him:

"Stay."

... **to be continued** ...

_Tell me what you think! ;-)_


	6. Six

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **Please excuse the delay but I was quite busy lately. But I'll be quicker with the next chapter. Expect some drama because I came up with some ideas! ;-)

**6**

_Nessun dorma... Nessun dorma...  
Tu pure, o, Principessa,  
nella tua fredda stanza,  
guardi le stelle_

Pavarotti's rich voice carried the tune seemingly effortlessly, accompanied by a full orchestra. Jarod smiled at the fierce beating of his heart. This seemed to be one of those dreams that you already knew were only dreams while you were still in the middle of them.

Puccini and the alluring scent of Miss Parker whose body was curled into his were a combination far too beautiful to be true.

_  
che tremano d'amore  
e di speranza.  
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,  
il nome mio nessun saprà!_

He felt her warm flesh under his hand where that had been resting on her stomach all night and moved his head slightly to bury his face deeper in her neck. Pavarotti resumed his singing and Jarod couldn't help but marvel at the quality of his voice...

_  
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò  
quando la luce splenderà!  
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silen..._

"What the hell!"

Jarod snapped out of his dream with a start and noticed suddenly that he hadn't, in fact, been dreaming. There had been music and Miss Parker had been sleeping in his arms. Until a second ago, that was.

She had sat up and angrily reached for her cell-phone that was on the nightstand and had been blasting the tune for a while.

"What?" she barked into the phone and ran her hand through her hair. While she was listening to the person on the line, she surveyed the room and seemed to struggle to clear her mind.

"Broots, what part of vacation don't you understand?" she snapped. "I don't care whether you think you have got a lead on Jarod. Besides, I have a feeling he is not exactly in Florida." She snapped her phone shut with such force that Jarod winced.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while, then Jarod smiled.

"Puccini?" he asked, pointing at her cell-phone.

Her yelling at Broots had fully pulled Miss Parker back into reality so that she wasn't as shocked by Jarod's presence as she had been upon initially waking up.

"It's such a beautiful song," she said defensively and gently placed her cell-phone back on the nightstand. Jarod stretched and looked down at himself. His clothes were crumpled and looked slept in. Miss Parker's make-up was smudged and she had somehow lost a sock during the night.

Jarod was a little taken aback at how the previous night had ended. After he had apologized to her, she had offered... no... asked him to stay. And then they had simply been sitting on the bed next to each other and had watched a movie in silence. After a while Miss Parker had obviously become tired and at some point her head had inavertently dropped to his shoulder and a moment later she had been sound asleep. So Jarod had taken her up on her offer and had stayed.

Miss Parker seemed uneasy at the thought that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder literally.

"It's eight o'clock already. Would you like me to get you some coffee?" Jarod asked and Miss Parker nodded absently. He decided that it would be wiser to leave her alone for a while to give her time to come to terms with he fact that she had allowed him close to her. When he walked out, he caught her staring down at her hand thoughtfully.

While he was waiting by the coffee machine, he thought back to how Miss Parker had calmed and comforted Amanda and had done what they had all failed to do all those weeks. It once again proved to him that she was very well capable of dealing with people. It was just that most of the time she didn't care to do so.

He felt a little ashamed that he had not remembered the incident with the elevator right away. How could he have failed to see her pain? He almost winced when he thought back to the haunted look in her eyes when she had confronted him with the fact that she had hurt herself on purpose because of what he had done to her.

He watched the black coffee drip into the jug and noticed that he was incapable of holding his hands still. Was he feeling guilty? It was a strange feeling for Jarod who had been on the receiving end of bad deeds far too often to acknowledge the fact that he himself could and did also inflict pain on people.

But although he hadn't meant for her to suffer like that, he couldn't deny the fact that he had done all these things with the intention to do exactly what she always accused him of: rub her painful family history in her face.

Of course he hadn't seen how badly she took it but he should have known, shouldn't he? It wasn't a secret that people who appeared cold and strong on the surface were often trying to conceal actual insecurities. Why had he not been able to anticipate that one day it would all be too much for her to take?

And he asked himself whether he had actually meant to hurt her. Had he? Had he secretly wanted her to suffer the way he had suffered?

He had wanted information from her, but he had also known that she was unable to give it to him. He had wanted to show her how evil the Centre was, but who knew that better than she did?

Suddenly he couldn't see his own reasons for doing what he had done and the uneasy feeling in his stomach grew.

* * *

Miss Parker brushed her wet hair out of her face and looked into her red-rimmed eyes that looked at her with stricken clarity. Why was she doing this to herself? If she called the sweepers on Jarod now, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Where had her cell-phone come from in the first place? She vaguely remembered Jarod placing it on the nightstand upon coming back from getting them a sandwich the past evening. She had been too distraught to think about the implications of that. Had he tried to show her that he trusted her now? And why would he? Everybody knew that she was even more unpredictable than usual when she was suffering.

Wounded animals did curious things- and so did she. Jarod knew that, and he had still returned her phone to her and had thereby reinstated her only possible connection to the outside world and the Centre.

He had probably tried to tell her, that she was free to go if she wanted to, that he would not keep her in this place full of memories that hurt her.

The temptation to just run away from it all, from Thomas' house, from little Amanda who reminded her of herself was almost too much to bear, but on the other hand Jarod had apologized to her and he had truly looked shocked and conscious-stricken when he had realized what he had caused.

Well, and she hadn't been the gentlest of persons towards him either. While he kept showing her how evil her little world was, she had thrown numerous insults at him. But had she also rubbed his sad history into his face? She couldn't remember. It seemed that most of her days were filled to the brim with insults and slights so that she didn't remember exactly whom she had snapped at or who had hurt her feelings in turn.

Those were the days at the Centre. What was the point in being friendly when you were in a cage of lions?

Strangely enough she remembered every time when Jarod had hurt her feelings. Maybe it was because despite the fact that he had kept winding her up all those years he was the only person around her that she never actually expected spite from.

When Miss Parker arrived in the kitchen, Jarod had set the table already. The room was filled with the comforting smell of fresh coffee and bread.

He handed her a cup of steaming coffee and gestured towards the table.

"I remembered you liked honey and wholemeal bread," he said. "Just so you can have some breakfast instead of stuffing yourself with calories."

If she had noticed that he had quoted her previous words, she didn't show it, but smiled. When she sat down on the chair opposite him and reached for the bread, he couldn't help but remember her warm body in his arms.

He watched her eat and drink her coffee while neither of them tried to make any conversation. Maybe he was just waiting for her to announce that she would leave today. She picked up on subtle hints quite well and the cell-phone had been a not so subtle invitation to leave whenever she felt the need to.

But sitting there in a black skirt with elegant boots and a light blue sweater she didn't look as if she was going to go out into the rain that was still falling tirelessly outside the windows.

"I will have the window repaired," Jarod finally broke the silence.

"You'd better." She looked up from the morning paper for the first time. "Have you made any enemies while you were here?"

He shrugged. "Not that I knew of."

She folded the newspaper and put it aside. "What about Amanda's father?" she asked.

Jarod felt a pang of guilt inside his chest. It was something he had resolved he would be keeping from her for as long as possible. But since she had asked him now, there was no way back. It was just an inconvenient coincidence that she had asked in this very moment.

"His trial is set for next week," Jarod said and Miss Parker cocked an eyebrow.

"Trial?"

"He killed his wife."

"You said that a colleague of her had done it." Miss Parker sounded like a prosecutor in front of a grand jury and Jarod was warned. Her temper was so explosive that it was well able to blow up a building. Let alone an adversary.

"She worked in a hospital in town as a nurse and she was married to a surgeon. So I told you the truth..." Jarod began.

"Half of the truth is as good as a lie," Miss Parker objected icily, but her infamous temper did not burst. Maybe she did acknowledge the fact that he had not told her to spare her the analogies to her own life.

"So what about the stalking part?" she asked.

"They had been divorced for a while and she had custody of Amanda. He did not seem to approve and one night when he returned the girl home after the weekend he shot her mother."

Miss Parker sighed. "You should have told me."

"I was afraid you'd back out because..." she cut him off before he could say any more.

"It's okay. Let's forget about it."

Now it was Jarod's turn to be stunned. Miss Parker wasn't exactly known to drop things like this one so easily. Maybe she was just not ready to be faced with all the drama in her life again already.

"Are we going to see Amanda today?" she asked after a short period of silence during which she had been fumbling with her slice of bread aimlessly.

"The children are going to the aquarium with Jenny today. We might see Amanda tonight if she is not too tired. Unless you would like to go along with them..."

Miss Parker snorted and pursed her lips. "All day? With kids? Are you nuts?"

* * *

"Wow! Sharks!"

Miss Parker trailed behind the children and realized that her first impression hadn't been too wrong. Accompanying kids to the zoo wasn't exactly what she'd profess to be a perfect afternoon. Interestingly enough, the kids weren't the actual cause of her dismay.

"Gosh! Look at those teeth of them! Aren't they huuuge?"

Miss Parker rolled her eyes, but Jenny didn't seem to notice anything except her forged excitement. Other than that, Parker was almost sorry that she had snapped at Jarod for talking her into exchanging her skirt and boots for jeans and a sweater because Jenny had stuffed the kids with french fries and burgers at lunch which made for twelve pairs of dirty hands that kept reaching for her arms to pull her towards the windows that lined the long corridor and presented to them sharks, fishes and rays.

The worst of it was that she could not, as she would have usually done, simply scare the children away but had to pretend to be an understanding, patient psychologist who liked kids. (And it sucked.)

Amanda was lingering behind them as usual and her eyes weren't shining with excitement as those of the other kids were. She looked very pale and only took slight glances at the creatures of the sea that surrounded her. Other than that she looked lost inside herself.

Miss Parker paused for a moment and allowed the other kids to run towards Jarod and Jenny, who clung to him like a bee stuck to a pot of honey.

"How pathetic!" Miss Parker thought while she was trying to come up with yet another insult disguised as mixed-up vocabulary. Actually the German part had been quite some fun. Especially when Jenny had been bragging about her great German marks at high school and Miss Parker had pretended to take interest in her (probably poor) language abilities. She had then smiled brightly and delivered a bunch of meaningless syllables that sounded remotely German to her own ears as if it was a speech.

Jenny had looked completely lost and then nodded and smiled nervously. "I nearly got everything," she had beamed with fake pride and Miss Parker had almost started retching at her attempt to be cute.

Due to her lingering for a while, Amanda had managed to catch up with her and now stood next to her, looking up at her with her huge sad eyes. That was the moment when Miss Parker realized that Amanda had not been following the group, but her.

Gripped by a sudden surge of solicitousness, she crouched down in front of the little girl and cocked her head.

"Don't you like sharks?" she asked, as usual not really sure what to talk about to a child.

As usual, Amanda didn't reply but simply shook her head, avoiding Miss Parker's gaze.

Miss Parker usually avoided contact with children as much as possible and consequently didn't know much about them, but even she noticed that Amanda looked younger than her years which was probably due to her suffering and eating so little.

"I'm not a fan of them either," Miss Parker tried, but trailed off because she had no idea what else to say to the silent little girl.

For a moment they simply looked into each others eyes as if to search for the connection they had established when Miss Parker had comforted Amanda yesterday. She only broke eye contact when she felt something brush her hand. Looking down she discovered Amanda's hand that reached out for hers as if she wanted her to hold it.

Despite her initial fear of any kind of contact with children, Miss Parker felt involuntarily touched. She gently wrapped her hand around Amanda's and pointed towards the door to the next room where the noisy group had already vanished.

"I prefer the fish from Finding Nemo," she said. "Less scary."

She winced inwardly since her only contact with the movie had been Broots' impossible video ringtone on his cell-phone, but at least Amanda's face lightened up every so slightly and she nodded.

Feeling a little weird because of the fact that she was walking hand in hand with a child, Miss Parker guided Amanda through a group of people and stopped in the next room, right next to an excitedly yelling group of kids who were competing for the shrillest voice with Jenny, who sent fleeting glances towards Jarod as if she was checking whether he was looking at her.

But Jarod was really looking at Parker who had first sneered at Jenny's demeanor and then had turned back to Amanda whom she was now pointing the fish out to.

"Hey Jar!" Jenny said and playfully slung an arm around his shoulder. "You gonna find Nemo?"

Over her shoulder he could see Miss Parker's eyebrow that was raised as a sign of extreme annoyance. He grinned to himself and placed his arm loosely around Jenny's shoulders, too.

Since they had arrived at the end of the last one of the corridors, the group had gathered around another one of the inevitable little shops that sold candy. Miss Parker hoped that Jenny would stuff herself with even more Mars bars and turn fat and ugly, but she knew that even if that happened, she would sadly not be there to witness it.

Amanda didn't seem interested in food and since Miss Parker wasn't used to the concept of comfort food herself, they simply sat on a bench and watched the other kids compete for their guardians' attention and ice-cream.

Amanda had gripped the edge of the bench and looked down at her legs that swung back and forth while Miss Parker narrowed her eyes as Jenny "accidentally" brushed Jarod's arm, then giggled loudly.

When she looked next to her to check for Amanda, the girl's eyes caught her and she found herself the object of a quizzical stare. Amanda narrowed her eyes in an imitation of Miss Parker, then looked quizzical again.

"Oh just look how she tries to impress him," Miss Parker said defensively. "It's pathetic."

There was a very small but knowing smile tugging at the corners of Amanda's mouth.

"You're too young for this," Miss Parker decided and folded her arms in front of her chest although she knew that at ten years she had also realized what was happening between people.

Now Amanda was watching Jenny, too, as she was half-dancing, half-walking around Jarod with the kids who were happily playing along.

Miss Parker looked back at Amanda who caught her gaze and- for the first time- smirked slightly. Well, at least this was interaction and a little girl wasn't old enough to wrongly assume that Miss Parker was jealous or anything.

"Would you like ice-cream?" Miss Parker asked half-heartedly and to her surprise Amanda nodded. When they got up she held her hand out for Miss Parker's again and she felt a warm feeling spread inside her chest. Was she beginning to develop feelings for this child? Oh no, she was probably not. After all that had happened she wasn't capable of feeling anything else than pain and fury anyway. But why scare the girl?

She walked over and bought an ice-cream which she handed down to the kid.

"Is your daughter a little shy?" the woman at the counter asked with a good natured laugh and reached down to stroke Amanda's cheek. The girl retreated immediately and Miss Parker shot the woman a glare that was so dark that she gasped.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

"You'd better be," Miss Parker replied sharply, then gently ushered Amanda away. The girl seemed to have relaxed visibly. Her skin still looked pale and her eyes haunted, but her posture had already changed slightly. It looked as if she wasn't as much on guard as she had been before. She looked nearly at ease which filled Miss Parker with a strange sense of pride because the girl felt safe with her.

"And here I was thinking you didn't like ice-cream."

She turned her head at Jarod's deep voice that suddenly sounded next to her.

Amanda had returned to her usual indifference and simply walked next to Miss Parker, her hand safely inside that of the older woman and looked down at her feet.

"She is warming up," Miss Parker whispered into Jarod's ear and earned herself a wide grin.

"I'm proud of you," he whispered back.

"I don't give a damn what you think," she answered, but softly.

They couldn't say whom of them had stopped in their tracks first, but suddenly they stood in the middle of the atrium with masses of people walking past them, but somehow they still felt alone with each other.

Miss Parker hadn't realized how close his face was to hers already and she wanted to pull back to not create the illusion for him that she allowed him anywhere near her space, but then she wondered whether she actually wanted to do that.

None of them moved either away from or towards the other and they didn't need to. She realized that, curiously enough, she was perfectly content with the feeling of his slow breath on her skin.

"How's your lip?" he asked so softly that she almost didn't hear him over the noise that the other people made.

"Why?" she asked back.

"I think I would..." he hesitated, then swallowed as if he was suddenly nervous. Realizing that talking was not what he wanted to do, he slightly leaned forward towards her.

The bang was so loud that Miss Parker felt Amanda's hand first close around hers firmly, then squirm as if to pull free. Her first reaction was to crouch down in front of the girl and pull her towards her.

Voices were rising all around them in confusion and she felt Jarod's hand on her hip to usher her aside, then he ran towards Jenny and the group of kids that stood a few meters away.

"What happened?" she could hear him yell while she tried her best to keep Amanda from shaking.

"There was this man who threw something!" Peter, one of the louder boys yelled. "He was at the door!"

Jarod turned towards the door, but there was noone there anymore and with the hundreds of people who were hurriedly heading for the exit, there was no way to find out who it had been.

He threw a look at Parker who was holding a rigid and uncontrollably trembling Amanda. Then he directed his attention at the source of the noise. Someone had thrown a rock much like the one that had destroyed the window at their house against the plexiglass behind which some fish were now swimming around in confusion.

Of course the tank had been designed to not break easily, but there was surely some damage done. And if he hadn't begun to lean into Parker that very moment, he might have been hit badly...

"Jarod!"

He swung around at the worried sound of Parker's voice. She was still holding Amanda in her arms, but the girl wasn't just trembling now. She was downright shaking in a very unnatural way that made the hair stand up on his back.

"Call an ambulance! I think she had a seizure or something. Hurry up!"

...**to be continued**...

_Sooo? Did you like it? ;-)_


	7. Seven

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for all the great reviews. I am still somewhat overwhelmed! :-)

**7**

Miss Parker was resting her head against the window, eyes closed, when Jarod approached her quietly. The raindrops that were running down the glass were illuminated by the flashing blue lights of an ambulance car against which Miss Parker blinked when he touched her arm.

He repeated the diagnosis the doctor had just told him in a calm quiet voice. When Miss Parker didn't respond but simply closed her tired eyes again, he went on: "That means she has..."

Miss Parker abruptly opened her eyes and the unexpected coldness in them shocked the Pretender more than anything else could have.

"I don't care," she said in an attempt to return to her old mean ways, but her voice was raspy and almost broke with the last word.

"Please, Miss Parker..." Jarod reached out for her, but only caused her to take an erratic step back, away from him.

"Don't touch me," she said in a cold voice that sounded hollow but steady. "What did you get me into again, Jarod?" she said and desperation began to seep into her carefully controlled voice.

Since he was too stunned to answer, she went on, firing words at him in a rapid staccato while her voice trembled more with every syllable until he could see the tears in her eyes.

"You pride yourself in being the great Pretender who knows everything! Why do you have to make me go through this again?"

"Through what?" he asked, torn between being angry with her for throwing a tantrum instead of comforting Amanda and feeling for her because she was quite obviously distraught.

"Faith!" The name left her lips like a bullet fired from a gun. That very moment she did start to cry in ernest. Shocked by her own emotions and desperate for Jarod not to see her tears, she turned around and covered her face with her hands. Then she took a deep rattling breath and made for the exit as fast as she could.

"Miss Parker!" he called after her, but she ignored him.

* * *

"Wow, girl. You're soaked!"

Miss Parker looked up from her spot on the bench with wary eyes, ready to haul an insult at the speaker, but then held back instead.

In front of her stood an old lady, dressed in a raincoat and a plastic hood that were both dripping with water despite the fact that she was carrying a large umbrella over her shoulder. White curls framed her round kind face.

"You must be cold, honey."

Usually Miss Parker responded only with violence to being called pet-names, but today she was too miserable even for that. The little old lady sat down next to her on the bench without hesitation and pulled a large thermos flask out of her huge handbag.

She poured steaming tea into a battered-looking mug and handed it to Miss Parker who was so surprised that she actually accepted it.

The old lady pointed at Parker and asked: "Unwanted pregnancy?"

Miss Parker shook her head, confused, and so the woman smiled and took a small bottle of rum from her bag. She added a shot to the tea and winked.

"Warms you like nothing else, doesn't it?"

That was something Miss Parker would have never objected to.

"I'm Angela, by the way."

Instead of offering her hand, Angela patted Miss Parker on the shoulder, then adjusted her umbrella so they were both underneath it. It was a welcome shield against the cold raindrops that had long since found their way through Miss Parker's coat and pullover and seemed to slowly turn her skin into ice.

There was silence for a moment during which Angela was looking at a group of very tall trees whose leaves were dripping with water.

"What a day!" she finally broke the silence. "Come on! Drink your tea!"

Miss Parker couldn't help but do as she was told. Her clothes and hair were wet and her teeth were shattering. Besides, Angela didn't look like your average murderer who killed you by means of poisoned tea with rum. Still, the situation was far beyond surreal.

She took a sip and felt better immediately when the warm liquid started to spread through her stomach, warming her up from the inside.

"Ah, that's good," Angela said and patted her cold wet hand. For some reason, the older woman's hands were warm and dry although she wasn't wearing gloves and despite the rain and the hopelessness inside her, Miss Parker suddenly began to feel comfortable.

Angela's eyes were green and looked a little bit like those of a cat- one that would sit by your bed and warm your feet on a cold day. One that would look at you through wise eyes and whose sight would always serve to make you feel better.

"Now what is it that makes you cry outside in this weather?" Angela asked as casually as if she was asking what time it was.

Strangely, Miss Parker didn't mind. She was the queen of seeing evil intention behind even the friendliest people, but right now she felt that there was nothing but warmth about the woman next to her.

"There is a child..."

Angela was about to grab the cup of tea back, but Miss Parker smiled involuntarily.

"A ten year old kid."

"Ah." Angela looked slightly sheepish, then gave Miss Parker a grin that had her smile back again despite herself. "Now? What about that girl?"

"She suffered a great loss and I felt I could help her because I suffered the same." She looked at Angela but since she was patiently waiting for her to continue, she went on.

"I don't think I can help her."

"What changed to make you believe that?" Angela asked.

"I found out she is sick and I used to know a little girl that died of cancer. I can't bear to lose someone else."

Angela looked at her thoughtfully while a drop of water ran down her nose.

"You know, darling. Life's like that."

Miss Parker couldn't help but sneer. "Oh come on. Don't give me all that junk about death belonging to life and being happy to be able to be with someone even if it can't be forever."

Angela shrugged.

"You said that, honey. I was about to mention that you wouldn't sit out here in the rain, but that you would be on a flight back to your hometown if you couldn't bear it."

Parker frowned and was about to ask how the woman knew that she wasn't a Portland native, but Angela had already proceeded with her speech.

"I hardly know anyone who could bear sitting out here, exposing themselves to the risk of catching pneumonia. I think it takes strength to be like that."

"So?" Miss Parker asked. "I hurt myself. That's not strength, it's weakness."

"I have never seen anyone who was less weak than you, sweetheart."

Miss Parker looked at her quizzically. "You barely know me."

"I recognize a strong personality when I see one. So stop moaning and get back to that girl. If she has suffered in the past, she won't want to lose someone else either, don't you think? And I bet she is not as strong as you."

Miss Parker narrowed her eyes at Angela, then closed them, feeling the cold raindrops trickling down her face and breathed in the fresh air that smelled so much of rain. She had completely forgotten that she had used to love the rain. Her mother had good-naturedly laughed at her for sitting by the window for hours at length, unable to tire of watching the raindrops come down, turning the garden into a dripping green mess.

When she reopened her eyes, Angela had vanished and her hands were no longer closed around the warm cup of tea.

"Miss! Miss!" She opened her eyes with a start and found herself on the same bench she had been dreaming about, a doctor in front of her. He was exceptionally good-looking with silver streaks in his dark-brown hair and striking features that had her slightly reminiscent of George Clooney. He was wearing an unzipped leather jacket over his scrubs and was holding a cigarette in his left hand. When he saw her longing look, he offered her one.

"Tough day?" he asked and shrugged when she regretfully declined. He threw the still burning cigarette away and it was extinguished by the rain immediately.

"More or less..." Miss Parker was still unsettled by her vivid dream and absently brushed a streak of wet hair away from her face.

"Look, if you need to talk to someone, I'm actually off duty. That stupid habit of smoking drove me out in the rain."

He gave her a sincere smile.

"I can give you a ride if you need one."

She nodded absently. "Would the airport be too far off your way?"

"Nah." He smiled. "Even if it was... I'd be glad to get you home safely."

She smiled and finally got up from the bench, finding herself actually accepting his offered hand of support. He held her hand for a little longer than necessary.

"Too bad you fell asleep," he said with a hint of worry in his deep voice. "How long have you been outside? I hope you won't catch a cold."

"Or pneumonia..." she whispered, then froze.

He followed her gaze to the bench where a small sign made from bronze was mounted. It said: "_Dedicated to Angela Jones who used to spend numerous afternoons here. We will never forget you_. _May your soul rest in peace_."

"Ah, Angela. She died last year," he explained to the soaked woman who looked as if she had seen a ghost. "A great woman. She was always here in the rose-garden and used to give comfort to people who had lost their loved ones."

The young woman in front of him finally allowed herself to meet his eyes and a surge of something he had almost believed to never return to him, went through him. Maybe it was pure lust at the sight of a beautiful woman, but he feared that it was not. She looked to vulnerable for any decent man to have that kind of thoughts, but it felt as if he could see into her soul through her eyes that he noticed were a curious kind of blue. He acted on his first impulse and reached out for her shoulder.

"Are you...?" but she simply raised one hand.

"I need to leave here."

He nodded, slightly disappointed by her reaction and gestured towards the parking-lot.

"Please. My car is over there."

He fell into step next to her when she strode towards the main-building. He hadn't thought he'd ever feel like that again when Maria had died. He had loved her more than he had ever told anyone. But had he ever been that stunned by a woman he had never seen before? Maybe it was like that because she looked so much like her. Maybe because she strode just like her, with her head up high.

They passed the main entrance that lay peacefully in the darkness of the evening. The woman turned her head one last time and stared at the doors, then turned back to him.

"Where's your car? I'd like to catch the eight O'clock flight to Delaware tonight."

* * *

Jarod felt his eyes droop and quietly got up from his spot next to Amanda's bed. The girl was sleeping and looked almost peaceful in the large hospital bed that made her look even smaller. He brushed her arm with his hand carefully and whispered: "I'll be back, little one. Don't worry."

Once he was outside the room, he stretched and blinked into the bright light of the hallway. A look at his watch told him that it had been almost an hour since Miss Parker had left. He still didn't know whether he was angry at her or not. She was probably already on her way back to Blue Cove, ready to forget about everything that had happened.

Even - or especially- about the moment they had shared before the rock-throwing.

He buried his head in his hands and rubbed his hand over his eyes.

Who was trying to achieve what with that? Did the man miss them on purpose both times? Was he facing a warning? Who was the man and why had he chosen the remote location of their house first, but then the crowded atrium of the aquarium? None of it made sense. The only man he could imagine to have a grudge on him right now was Amanda's father, but since he was safe behind bars, it was impossible. Or had he asked someone to do it for him? To Jarod, that did seem unlikely since the whole thing looked more like a thing that was not calculated and planned in cold blood, but rather like a crime committed in hot blood. It looked like rage to him and since he had posed as a profiler once, he knew that he could usually trust his instincts.

But could he with Miss Parker? He aimlessly walked down the corridor in the general direction of the cafeteria. He had to think about all of this and he could think best when he was pacing. Since he had been unable to walk greater lengths at the Centre, he now preferred to walk around as if to remind himself of the fact that he was free.

But had he ever been free from the Centre? Wasn't Miss Parker a part of it? Of course she was an integral part of it! If it hadn't been for her, he would have fled to a faraway country a long time ago. But she kept him there, she caused him to remain close by although he didn't want to.

When he had first run away from the Centre, he had wanted revenge. Then as the months had gone by and he had watched them fail the task of returning him numerous times, he had realized that it wasn't revenge that he wanted. He had then assumed that he had just been unable to disengage himself from the people associated to the Centre because, although a dysfunctional one, they had been the only family he'd ever known.

It was only today, that Miss Parker had left him for the first time after he had escaped from her grasp so often, that he realized that he hadn't actually wanted to leave her.

He tried to remember the little girl who had used to visit him, who he had called a friend, but failed to conjure up more than just a blurred image. But he could see Miss Parker as clearly as if she was standing right in front of him, when he imagined her now.

Her relaxing in the bathtub, her holding Amanda's hand, her yelling at him, her hiding her scarred hand under long sleeves, her smiling, her snapping at him for no reason, her raising her eyebrow mockingly.

It was all there, but she wasn't.

He had arrived in the cafeteria and got himself a stale but strong coffee from the vending machine. He sat down at one of the tables and gazed out into the rain.

Why cry after her? She was an arrogant, mean, cruel, terrible, exhausting, sadistic, neurotic... what? She was all those things. She was incredibly annoying. How came still all he wanted to do was press his lips onto hers every time he saw her?

During the past twenty years they had never spent as much time together as they had over the last days, so he had never actually allowed himself to admit that it was indeed a problem.

But it wasn't anymore, he realized while he finished the last of the horrible coffee. She was gone. Had returned to her world that was hardly any better than this. He tried to ignore the hunger pains in his stomach. Although he felt weak and hungry, he couldn't get himself to eat. He had never had a problem with that, he wondered. Why now?

After a moment of staring into the darkness outside thoughtfully, he finally got up and walked back to Amanda's room. This was a backlash, but he would be able to help Amanda in another way. He had always managed to help in the past. He didn't need Parker to accomplish what he was striving for.

He opened the door to Amanda's room and gasped at the figure standing next to her bed. Miss Parker turned her head towards him when he stepped in. She looked like something from a horror movie in the half-darkness, still wearing her coat that was soaked with rain just like her hair was.

Still, Jarod couldn't remember ever having been so fascinated by a woman.

"Quit staring at me like that, Jarod," she said quietly not to wake Amanda. "I know I have looked better in my life."

"I thought you had gone," he said, barely able to hide his joy at her return.

"And leave the poor girl for you to care for? Please. I don't hate her that much."

He noticed that her hand was resting on Amanda's forehead. No- she didn't hate her at all.

"She will be okay," he said. "I told you that."

She shook her head. "I didn't hear a single word you told me, Jarod."

He smiled wearily. "You were talking about Faith, Miss Parker. But you don't need to worry. It won't be like that with Amanda. I would like to repeat what I said earlier."

"Please," she said, nodding while fresh raindrops that had been caught in her hair rolled down her cheeks.

"She experienced something that is called psychogenic nonepileptic seizures. That means she doesn't suffer from epilepsy, but from post traumatic stress of which I think we both know where it comes from. Those seizures may return, but there is also a possibility that they will not, since there is no physical illness that causes them.."

Miss Parker took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Thank god."

He crossed over to her and gently but carefully placed his hand on her shoulder to give her support without crossing into her space.

"I'm glad you came back."

She looked into his eyes. "I was almost on my way to the airport, Jarod."

"What made you turn back?" he asked.

She hesitated for a long moment, then looked up at him solemnly.

"I realized that her life will be just as screwed up as mine if I don't help her. She feels safe with me, Jarod. I can't leave her now just because I am to weak to deal with my own past."

"You're not weak," he said with conviction.

"I know." Her sad face finally turned into a smile. "That's exactly why I came back."

For some reason neither of them pulled back, but instead remained standing where they were.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Miss Parker suddenly said after for a while there had been nothing to be heard except the sound of the thundering rain outside.

"What do you mean?" he asked. They were still whispering in order to avoid disturbing Amanda's sleep.

"My lip," she said. "But you never got to finish your sentence."

"What sentence?"

"I asked why you wanted to know about my lip and you said you thought you would..."

She trailed off and brought her face slightly closer to his before she continued:

"What was it you would have done?"

"It's not actually something you talk about so much."

"Really?" She tilted her head to one side and he knew that all he had to do was lean forward to kiss her as he had wanted to do so badly back in the aquarium.

So what was he waiting for?

**...To be continued...**

Want me to continue? ;-)


	8. Eight

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I thought I'd just give you something to chew on... ;-)

**8**

There is a very short period of time between that first moment when two people realize that they are about to kiss and the actual meeting of their lips. Although that moment is usually filled with excited anticipation, for it to be stretched for too long is a sure road towards disaster.

So Jarod knew that every second he'd hesitate would take him farther away from kissing Miss Parker. He was so close that he could smell her perfume and feel the dampness of her hair and skin in the little air that was between them. His body was screaming for the touch of her skin, but a very unwelcome voice inside his head had already begun to protest.

She pulled back before he could. The last thing Miss Parker expected from men who were faced with the unique opportunity to kiss her without getting smashed in return was hesitation. They usually went about it like young dogs chasing their own tails and the erotic tension evaporated in the blink of an eye.

But now with Jarod, the tension was simply unresolved and she felt deeply dissatisfied. She didn't feel particularly attractive right now and, aware of the fact that she did not have many qualities in character, she felt almost self-conscious under his suddenly scrutinizing gaze. Her looks were what fueled her self-confidence, but now that she didn't feel sexy and in control anymore, her weak core showed.

Jarod realized that Miss Parker's whole stance had suddenly changed completely. She was holding her scarred hand close to her body like a bird's broken wing and he understood that she had taken up shielding it like that when it had been hurt. It seemed that now that she felt uneasy, she automatically returned to a posture she had adopted when she'd felt most vulnerable.

"Look... I..." he began, suddenly anxious to explain to her what was going on inside his head, but she simply turned toward the door.

"I was actually going to get some coffee anyway. Milk, two sugars, wasn't it?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer before heading towards the door in two long steps and closing the door behind her.

Jarod turned around and found his gaze fastened by Amanda's large reproachful eyes almost immediately.

* * *

Miss Parker had been heading for the coffee-machine, but stopped dead in her tracks before she had reached it. Unexpectedly exhausted, she heavily lowered herself to one of the empty seats that lined the hospital corridors to accommodate worried relatives. At this hour, the lights were lowered and the corridors were quiet and empty. She stared down at her hand and wondered whether it would ever really heal. The scar was still an angry red and even more so, now that she had been unconsciously squeezing her hand into an angry fist. It hurt especially where her long nails had dug themselves into the still vulnerable flesh.

She thought back to that night when she had cut herself. The amount of blood that had run down her hand and arm had been enormous and although she had been shocked, she had marveled at its rich red quality and the way it had welled out and run down her pale arm.

Jarod had refused to kiss her and she had to admit to herself that her good spirits during the last hours prior to Amanda's seizure had not only been caused by her close contact to the little girl but also by the prospect of... of something with Jarod.

Miss Parker wasn't one for romantic ideas of love. Since Thomas she solely lived for the moment and did not dare to even consider what lay beyond the horizon. Sill, she had felt herself longing for Jarod.

That very moment, she felt the chill for the very first time. It was cold and she needed a hot shower and a bed. But where? Going back to Jarod would be beyond humiliating right now. She, his unforgiving huntress, had practically begged him to kiss her and he had rejected her! Was there anything worse?

"You're still here?"

She looked up and found herself faced with the doctor from the park once again. He now sported a white coat along with a sign that identified him as Marcus Jones, M.D..

"And you," she replied weakly.

He sat down next to her and smiled apologetically. "I hope you're not still here because I couldn't drive you home."

She shrugged and didn't snap as she'd usually have, but remained calm instead.

"It wasn't your fault that an emergency came in. Was it bad?"

"Turned out to be a girl who'd cut her finger with a broken bottle. Stitched it up and she was ready to go."

"Good for you," she said and for a moment wondered what it would be like to have a job that gave back to you once in a while instead of slowly draining you of all hope for a better future.

"With all this rain I was wondering whether you might need a warm-up as badly as I do," he said and she found the note of hesitation in his tone cute. He didn't seem to be doing this too often.

"There's this very nice restaurant just right around the corner. They have the best whites in town."

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid they won't let me in like this."

He seemed to be noticing her desolate state for the first time and reacted with a somewhat bewildered shrug.

"You just look a little wet to me."

He winked at her at - to her surprise- made her laugh.

* * *

Jarod stepped into the hall, looking for Miss Parker. He was still confused at his own reaction- why hadn't he just kissed her? How many dreadful nights had he been unable to fall asleep because he'd been thinking of her? Especially when her day's outfit had been particularly revealing again... Sadly, this happened far too often. And when he had kissed the first woman apart from their chaste kiss when they'd been kids- hadn't he been secretly imagining it was her?

So why on earth was he acting so stupidly now? He of all people should know how used Miss Parker was to rejection- and how she reacted to it.

There she stood in the hallway, still dripping with water but once again radiating the confident beauty he found so fascinating about her. A man stood in front of her, his back towards Jarod and was talking to her. Was he the cause for the smile on her face?

Even before Jarod had finished that thought, he found himself awash with jealousy.

Even from his position a few meters away from them, he could see the flirty look in her eyes. His heart contracted and for the first time in his life, the Pretender experienced the horrible sting of jealousy.

* * *

"I'd prefer to look a little more appealing on our first date," the woman said and smiled one of her cryptic little smiles. He returned the smile, finding himself mesmerized by her. She looked so much like her- how could that be?

"So you'll stay in Portland for a while?" he asked, unaware of the almost begging tone in his voice.

"I guess," she shrugged. "I could use a little holiday."

He couldn't resist touching her shoulder but withdrew immediately when he felt her wince slightly.

"I'm..." he began, but she was already leaning forward. He could feel her breath on the skin of his neck for a short moment before her soft lips brushed his cheek in a quick kiss.

"I'll see you around."

He couldn't help but stare after her when she starting walking, leaving him with a business card slid into his left hand. Her steps were sure and long when she walked away from him towards a man that had just stepped out of a patient's room. She went past him into the room without even acknowledging his presence.

The look the man gave Marcus before he shut the door was so dark that he would have died, if looks could kill. Marcus' heart seemed to skip a beat. What a coincidence...

* * *

Jarod leaned by the door, watching Miss Parker at Amanda's bedside. The woman was worse than a chamaeleon having gone from vulnerable lamb to maneater just to end up caring mother right now.

Amanda was sitting up in bed, holding on to Miss Parker's hand once again. She seemed to be doing that a lot. Miss Parker slowly brushed a strand of hair away from Amanda's face and whispered soothing words that obviously served to relax the little girl.

They didn't help Jarod, though.

"_What is it you would have done?" _

The sound of her seductively lowered voice rang in his ears and those alluring words kept repeating themselves in his head over and over again.

Maybe he hadn't kissed her because he was afraid something would break between them? Maybe he had liked the tension between them and feared it would go away if it was resolved?

Or maybe he was just a stupid coward who feared that he would not be good enough for Miss Parker. Pausing for a moment, he realized that the answer was probably less complicated: He was simply afraid that they would hurt each other if they succumbed to their mutual desire.

Truthfully, both their hearts were scarred, they had both been exploited, let down and betrayed too many times for this to work. She deserved someone like Thomas who came without such darkness inside him. Someone who could make up for what she lacked due to other peoples actions.

They would only bring each other more pain and sorrow, so it would be better to stay away from each other - at least when it came to the romantic part.

Miss Parker gave Amanda a smile, then leaned over her to tuck her in and kiss her forehead.

"You better get some rest now and I'll be back tomorrow."

Amanda nodded and closed her eyes, still as silent as she had remained all the time since her mother's death, but calmer looking.

Miss Parker lingered for a moment as if she didn't want to leave, then walked towards Jarod. The softness had vanished from her eyes when she approached him, but she held his gaze.

Jarod felt a familiar weakness in his knees.

_Don't allow yourself to fall in love with her now!_

"Shall we go home now?" she asked.

"Yes."

He followed her to the car and there was only one thought that managed to cheer him up slightly: She might be eager to date that doctor tomorrow, but today she was going home with him.

* * *

Miss Parker sat on the sofa watching the pouring rain, that was once again splashing against the glass of the large windows.

A man had come and replaced the broken glass of the kitchen window and now Jarod sat in front of it, staring outside, looking just as gloomy as she felt.

Still, there was no trace of the rock-thrower and now that her concern about Amanda had been soothed, she found herself quite worried about the turn of events. What was going on? She sensed evil behind that scheme. She didn't know who she was dealing with or why, but she was tired of evil following her everywhere she went.

She looked down at Amanda's teddybear that she had picked up on the way back to the house, so she could give it to her in the morning. The girl needed her help. No time to get confused by maniacs throwing rocks or cute doctors or...

Her gaze wandered towards the kitchen where Jarod had taken up making himself a sandwich. She watched his big hands go about the task and felt another stabbing pain in her heart. _He hadn't kissed her_.

Far too used to rejection, she had never in her life leaned into someone if she hadn't been absolutely sure he would actually kiss her. She had never been disappointed- until now.

The pain became worse and she couldn't help but hiss and press her hand against her chest. What was this about?

Jarod turned around and his gaze became worried when he saw her.

"Are you okay?" He was next to her within an instant.

"I... think so."

The pain vanished a quickly as it had come and she straightened up, embarrassed by her display of weakness.

"I'm going to bed."

"You should eat something. You eat very little."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and got up. "Always. Good night, Jarod."

She had nearly reached the door when he called her back.

"Good night, Miss Parker."

Only when she had arrived upstairs in her room, she realized that his words had sounded like something else.

**... to be continued ...**


	9. Nine

1**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**9**

"I won't let you get away like this."

His eyes fluttered open to look at Miss Parker who stood next to his bed in her pyjamas. The shadows on her face, caused by the semi-darkness in the room, accentuated her features and grim expression. It sent Jarod's stomach churning. What did she mean? Was she going to return him to the Centre, now that she was angry with him? Or was she...?

His question was undoubtedly answered, when she pulled the covers away from him and straddled him. He looked up at her, unable to recall the voice of reason inside his head when she came down to kiss him on the lips. He flipped them over and was on top of her now, unbuttoning her top as if his life depended on it. Her warm moving body beneath him made him crazy...

"Jarod!" she moaned. Then louder and somewhat annoyed: "Jarod!"

He was awake with a start and found himself sitting up in bed and staring at Miss Parker who stood in pretty much the same spot that she had occupied in his dream. But instead of tousled hair and pyjamas she sported suit trousers and a burgundy blouse. Her hair was still tousled and slightly damp from her shower and her face was bare of all make-up. It was that fact and the worried look in her eyes that made Jarod jump to alert-mode.

"What's up?" he asked, feeling himself getting frenzied.

"It's about Amanda," Miss Parker said, her earlier distance towards him not yet forgotten but pushed into the background for now. "The hospital just called my cell-phone. She's gone."

"What do you mean... she's gone?" he asked, running one hand through his hair, confused.

"I don't know!" she hissed at him. "Now quit standing there and get dressed! We need to find her!"

From the corner of his eye he watched Miss Parker pace restlessly. Her image disappeared when he hurriedly pulled his sweater over his head. When it appeared again, she had pressed her fingertips against her temples.

"Do they know whether she walked away on her own?"

"You saw her!" Miss Parker dropped her hands from her forehead, then raised them again in an exasperated gesture. "She was weak and frightened. Why would she leave the hospital?"

"Did they tell you anything else?" he asked.

Miss Parker shook her head. "No. They just told me to come because she'd vanished."

Only now he noticed just how worried Miss Parker looked. She had really made a connection to the girl in the few days that they had spent together.

Consciously putting their earlier situation behind him, he stepped towards her and touched her shoulder lightly. For the first time that he could remember, she didn't flinch, but her gaze flew up to his quickly. The quizzical look in her eyes nearly made him break his earlier resolve to stay away from her, but then he remembered what was much more important right now.

"We'll find her," he said, then, following an impulse, pulled her into him.

Miss Parker inhaled Jarod's scent and found herself dizzy with a familiar feeling. She stepped back quickly from his embrace, looked into his eyes and found herself hurrying towards the door.

"We need to get going!" she said, still shaky from their previous encounter.

* * *

Nurse Helen swirled around when she heard approaching footsteps. Her heart was racing and panic was tugging at the edges of her nerves although the matter was no longer in her hands. None of the other hospital staff had laid any blame on her, but she still felt bad about this thing happening on her shift. She had been doing night-shifts for ages, but nothing had ever gone wrong. Well, not like this anyway.

She took in the appearance of what she presumed where Amanda's parents. Both were tall and attractive and just as dark-haired as Amanda. The woman, who was walking slightly ahead of the man was wearing business attire and her gaze was dark. She looked as if she was used to intimidating people. Maybe she was a lawyer or a cop. Still, it was obvious from the grimness of her stance, that this was very personal to her.

The man was more obviously worried. He had kind dark eyes where hers were rather cold and he seemed to have be rather used to trying to soothe his wife.

"What happened?" the woman inquired. She possessed a sort of violent kind of beauty that manifested itself in full, arrogantly pursed lips and shiny black hair that swung elegantly whenever she turned her head.

She raised one eyebrow when Helen failed to answer right away. The man caught her shoulders before she could reach out to shake the nurse. Helen didn't blame her. She was a mother herself and she knew just how great maternal concern could be.

"I... I was on my patrol through the corridors. Another little girl was crying... there was this noise and when I returned the window was smashed and Amanda was gone."

The woman's eyes widened, then she pushed past Helen into Amanda's now empty room.

The cold wind blew into Miss Parker's face when she entered the room and her heart contracted at the sight of the empty bed. The window, indeed, was smashed, but there was nothing that it might have been smashed with inside the room. She crossed the room and tried to gaze out of the window. There was a dark object, looking like a big stone just outside on the pavement where some cops were already gathering.

Had the thrown stones inside the house and in the aquarium been warning that she had chosen to ignore? Was it her fault that Amanda had been taken? Had there been a danger she had failed to sense?

Miss Parker covered her face with her hand and tried to breathe, but found herself unable to. Another stabbing pain cut through the left side of her chest and she could barely prevent herself from grabbing the window to stay upright.

"Ma'am? I'm so very sorry. This person who has taken your daughter can't be far! The police will find them..." she heard the nurse's voice coming from far away.

"She's not my daughter..." she murmured, slowly regaining her senses, then straightened up quickly. "It's your fault she was taken! Why didn't you take care of her?"

Her voice had risen quickly and she found herself so angry that she nearly started shaking the woman in front of her.

"Hey..." Jarod's soft tone of voice that was meant to soothe, only upset her more.

"Is there anything we failed to see?" she asked him, desperate for him to, as usual, be one step ahead of her. As much as she usually hated it, she was now longing for him to know more than she did, but the sad look in his eyes told her, that he was just as helpless as she was.

"The cops are looking for her," he told her in a low voice. "They'll find her."

The look in her eyes was unexpectedly cold when she swung round to face him again: "What makes you so sure?"

* * *

Miss Parker found it increasingly annoying to maintain her German accent and occasional fake difficulty with grammar and vocabulary while they sat huddled round the wooden table in the children's home's cosy kitchen.

Angela sat next to her and Jarod, wearing a knitted sweater and jeans that, along with her short disheveled hair, gave her a somewhat creased attractiveness. Miss Parker noticed only that the older woman must have once been a heavy smoker because her voice possessed the deep, raspy quality that was almost always caused by a few too many cigarettes.

"I suppose we should have a drink!" Angela said firmly and walked over to a cupboard above the sink that was too high to be reached by children and retrieved three glasses and a bottle of scotch. Miss Parker decided that the woman was definitely to her liking.

Angela poured them each a generous amount and then downed half of hers without even cringing at the bitter taste.

"Good one," Miss Parker murmured monosyllabically, savoring the taste. Her time with Jarod, she noticed, had put a stop to her nightly alcohol escapades. Right now she deemed that to be negative rather than positive.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Angela spoke.

"You know... this is not how we usually handle crises around here," she said, motioning towards the scotch bottle. "It's just that I can't stand how that poor little girl has to suffer again."

Miss Parker reacted with silence, wondering whether anyone had ever said that about her. Maybe when her mother had died, or when she had been shipped off to boarding-school, crying in the Sweeper-driven car all the way to the airport. Or when she had returned and found herself chained to the Centre.

"It was such a drama when her mother died. It was all about the papers. The shooting, the fact that she had to witness it all... nobody really knew why her father killed her mother. They didn't get along well after the divorce, but there had never been any kind of violence..."

Angela trailed off and took another sip of her scotch. Noticing that Parker had already finished hers, she leaned over to give her a refill. An action that was regarded with some concern by Jarod who knew how likely Miss Parker was to drink her sorrows away.

"She has improved lately," Angela said. "I am amazed, really, and after 35 years in the business there isn't much that can still amaze me, Susanne. You've only been working with her for a couple of days and she had already shown signs of improvement."

Jarod watched Miss Parker's seemingly expressionless face. One might believe that she was very good at hiding feelings, but her eyes always gave her away.

She probably knew, because in crucial moments like now she shielded them.

"She hasn't been down here on her own accord at all since she has been here, but she stood in the doorway after that first evening. She didn't stay when I offered her to, but it was still a small miracle."

Parker bit her lip, then looked up at Angela.

"Do you have any idea who might have taken her?" Her voice wavered along with her accent.

"I don't. The only person I would have suspected is in jail for her mother's murder."

Parker readily accepted yet another refill that Jarod hadn't seen coming because he hadn't noticed that Parker had drained the contents of her glass once again.

He would have been dead drunk after three generous glasses of scotch, but she was still holding up. There wasn't even the faintest hint of a slur in her voice. Miss Parker could really hold her liquor, which was a sure sign that she drank too much of it.

"I feel like we should have protected her better."

He would have to get her home soon since she seemed to be forgetting to put on the accent. In that last sentence she had only half-heartedly added a hard edge to the word "better".

"How could we have known?" Angela asked, reaching out for Parker's hand.

To his surprise, she didn't draw back, but instead lifted his gaze to his. He shook his head very slightly and they reached a silent agreement not to tell Angela about the thrown rock into their window yet.

She did, however, know about the incident in the aquarium.

"Do you think the thrown rock in the atrium of the aquarium had something to do with this?" he asked, eager to hear Angela's opinion. She was a wise woman and thought in ways that his very rational mind often neglected.

"If that was the case, it would have been a warning," Angela said.

"But against what? What would we be warned about?"

Angela rested her chin on her hand and swirled the dark liquid in her glass around thoughtfully.

"What if it wasn't us who was warned, but Amanda?"

Parker furrowed her brow. "A little girl? What for?"

"She has never talked to the police or to anyone about that night when her mother was shot. She hasn't said at word since that night."

Jarod felt a pang of excitement.

"You think she knows something that someone doesn't want her to tell anybody?"

Angela simply looked up at him and her gaze was so intense that he was reminded of a sphinx that had fixed her knowing gaze at him.

"I don't know."

* * *

The new day was already dawning when they returned to Thomas' house. The rain had stopped for a while and the building was smothered in a fine grey fog that soaked their clothes and left a fine dampness on their skin.

The sky was a greyish blue and dark clouds were already appearing again, but for a moment, the house was silent and the otherwise ever-present sound of the rain was mercifully absent.

It hit Miss Parker when she stepped into the hall, that this was exactly the kind of silence that Thomas had left behind. She simply had never been able to succumb to it, since there had always been worse heartache every day that had drowned out the other feelings for Thomas every day.

Now that she was far away from the daily grief and anger, humiliation and sorrow, she could finally listen to what lay below it all.

She felt so lonely that she was almost ready to just turn to Jarod and throw herself at him. His earlier hesitation was the only thing that kept her from giving in to the urge.

Usually she would go to a bar, get dead drunk and make out with some mildly attractive man before she'd run away before she actually ended up in bed with him. It felt better to humiliate them by catching a cab just that last minute when they believed that they'd reached their goal for that night.

"We should try to get some sleep, "Jarod said. "The police will call us if they find anything. I made sure of that."

Miss Parker nodded. "I still feel like there's anything we've missed. Something that will allow us to see the bigger picture."

She touched her hand to her forehead. "You go sleep. I don't know how I could right now." The forced snippy tone came across rather lame so he came close to touching the small of her back with his hand to guide her into the living-room before he could stop himself.

Instead he flipped the light-switch when he entered the room behind her.

He had never actually heard her scream, but she did so when the lights above the kitchen counter came on. And a second later he knew why.

... **to be continued** ...


	10. Ten

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**10**

Jarod didn't know whether Miss Parker was embarrassed because she had screamed or whether she was just eager to hide her fear, but the rage that she displayed a moment later, was unprecedented. He hadn't known that it was actually possible to be that angry.

"I am going to find that bastard and make him pay!" she yelled from between gritted teeth while she stood in front of the kitchen counter, fist clenched and breath coming raggedly.

Jarod himself was unsettled by the image that had greeted them upon entering the room.

There was a typed letter that had been pinned to the kitchen appliance, consisting only of one sentence: "It's your fault."

There were bloody fingerprints all over the paper but Jarod's expert's eye told him that they were by far too small to be those of an adult. Miss Parker, who had once been the security expert of the Centre and thus was trained in all sorts of fields, seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

She now stood silently, one hand on her hip, the other one in her face.

Jarod deemed it best not to disturb what appeared to be a moment of calming-down and walked into the kitchen for closer inspection of the evidence.

Nothing had been touched or broken. It seemed that the person had just come in and posted the note on there. There were no wet footsteps and absolutely nothing seemed out of place.

The letter itself looked quite innocent- except for the blood, of course. The sheet of paper was not quite a normal size. It seemed as if a slim strip of paper had been ripped off at the top. Examining it more carefully, Jarod found what seemed like the rest of an "H" in bold black letter. It was something he couldn't make sense of.

The blood was dried, so it had been smeared on the paper a while ago. He couldn't tell from whether - assuming it had been her- Amanda had touched the paper on her own accord or whether her hand had been forcefully placed there to accomplish the effect.

He turned around to see Miss Parker.

"You didn't let me take my gun," she said gloomily, although her rage seemed to have gone, for which Jarod was glad. You simply couldn't talk rationally to her when she was that upset.

"This is not a matter that is in your own hands."

"Self-administered justice is in my genes. I grew up at the Centre."

"So did I," he answered pointedly.

"Playing the saint again?" she snapped. "I don't believe you if you say that you never wished to blow anyone's brains out!"

Was that the woman who had been so tender with Amanda earlier that evening? Or were it some maternal instincts that had been dormant up till now?

She was beautiful when she was angry, but she would have killed him, had he voiced his thoughts. She didn't need a gun to hurt someone seriously. She had proved that quite a few times already.

"I just don't believe in violence, Parker," he defended himself.

"Oh you don't? Then how do you explain that you torture the people that you believe are the villains when you're once again trying to help..." she mimicked an admiring tone in her voice "... the weak and abused?"

Jarod held up a calming hand because he didn't see the point in fighting with her right now.

"I don't torture them. I don't hurt them."

"You make them believe that you want to kill them. Torture is not always physical, Jarod- you of all people should know that."

There was silence for a moment because Jarod didn't know what to say. There was a hint of triumph in Parker's eyes when for once he couldn't come up with a retort.

She menacingly stepped closer to him and the hint of her scent that wafted towards him made his skin tingle with uneasiness rather than the usual arousal. He only noticed that it had actually been that, now that it felt different for the first time.

"You make yourself believe that you're any better than me and the rest of the Centre crew, but you're not. You think that just because you've been educated by Sydney, you have remained untouched by the evil that fills that place to the brim, but you have not. Sadism is everything but a positive character trait, Jarod. Did you know that?"

Her voice was low and seemed to fill the room so that her voice came crashing against Jarod from every corner of the room.

"I'm so sick of you playing the hero and being admired by everyone when you're just as bad as me. You stopped being a victim a long time ago. The good forgive. You don't."

"Neither do you," he interjected weakly.

"I never said I was a good person. I admit my faultiness. You can't."

She smiled a cruel smile that was closer to a sneer than to anything and he felt himself shudder not because she looked so mean, but because she was right.

He had not only deliberately hurt her feelings, but also had played with people's fears and made them scream with agony. They were bad people alright, murderers, rapists, thieves... and they probably deserved just what they got, but Miss Parker was right. He was not the avenging angel, the knight in the shining armor, that he pretended to be. He had been touched by the evil that you breathed in with the air in the Centre, but he couldn't admit it.

The hard stare had suddenly disappeared from her eyes and she allowed him to see what lay beneath it all- she looked hurt.

"So stop telling me how bad a person I am, when you're not any better."

Suddenly she was the woman he had seen with Amanda again and he watched her as she picked up the note and turned it around in her hands.

"We should call the police about that," she said, one hand touching her stomach as if she was trying to get rid of a feeling of sickness.

Jarod, though, hadn't made the transition quite so quickly. He stepped closer to Miss Parker, and took the piece of paper from her hand, putting it aside swiftly. Before she could protest, he had locked his gaze with hers.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

She didn't hesitate for even the shortest of moments. Instead her answer came so quickly that Jarod wondered whether she had been waiting for the question.

"Because you did what I didn't dare to do and you keep rubbing it in my face."

"Did what?" he asked back, tired of her rude manners.

"Run away."

He was stunned for a moment since he had always believed that she was just unwilling to give up the relative security of the Centre.

"If you want to go, why don't you?"

She looked as if she wanted to say something, then held back. In the moment of silence that ensued, he read the answer in her eyes: She was afraid.

"They'd want to spill my blood, Jarod. It's what ties me to that place."

"Are you sure?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he looked innocent enough not to have added a deeper meaning to his question.

"You're afraid they'd kill you," he assumed, when she failed to answer.

She raised her chin, eyes blazing: "Don't be ridiculous, Jarod. I am not afraid of anything. Freedom's just not worth dying for."

Although he knew that she was lying, he was kind enough not to point it out to her.

There was more uneasy silence, then he finally stepped towards her and lightly touched her elbow with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but at least she didn't break his arm.

"It's no use ripping each other apart, Miss Parker. What we need to do is find Amanda."

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"But how? I don't have the foggiest idea who did this and why."

They looked at the blood-smeared piece of paper on the kitchen-counter that would have their fingerprints all over its edges already although they'd both been careful.

"I can test this one for fingerprints and run it through the FBI's database," he finally said. She looked at him quizzically.

"Do I want to know how you got access?"

"If you want to hear a whole lot of technobabble, you may."

She shuddered. "Sounds like one boring long monologue. I usually call Broots if I feel like one of those."

They shared their first true smile since they'd nearly kissed earlier on.

"I suggest you try to catch some sleep while I am at the task," he said but she shrugged.

"I suggest I'll have a few liters of coffee and go over the whole thing again. There must be something we've missed... by the way: Do you have one of your nice red notebooks on her father's case or do you just write them to torture me?"

He grinned as her sentence had been delivered like a joke, taking some of the edge of her earlier hard words. He silently promised himself to think about the whole thing again later and come up with some way to make it up to her. She was right. He had been self-righteous.

How came he kept hurting her feelings without even noticing? Maybe that was the reason that she was always in his face when they met?

* * *

Miss Parker felt better after a quick shower and a change of clothes. Now dressed in jeans and a tight black cashmere-sweater along with high heels and her usual make-up in place, she felt a lot more like herself. As usual when she needed to be strong for herself, she turned to the persona she liked to show off to the world. Beautiful- strong- fearless and kind of menacing. That was what she wanted to look like for people. Her personal insecurities were nobody's business. And since she had failed to hide them from Jarod of all people, she at least needed to keep up her appearance.

Ignoring the fact that it was seven thirty in the morning, she savored a small glass of the cooking-sherry Jarod had for some reason bought and put in the kitchen cabinet. She didn't want to know what he needed that for and she actually didn't like sherry, but hell she needed a drink.

Pulling a face at the taste that differed considerably from her usual scotch with soda (on healthier days), she turned to the little red notebook Jarod had left for her on the coffee-table. She usually dreaded the sight of them, but this time she found herself eager to explore its contents.

The first pages were covered in various newspaper-articles that described how a neighbor had found Amanda's mother dead in a pool of blood while her daughter had been sitting mere inches from her, beyond crying and staring at her mother's corpse with empty eyes.

The search for the murderer seemed to have been fruitless since there had been no suspects. Her estranged soon to be ex-husband had had an alibi, having been on-duty at the hospital. He had also agreed for Amanda to be put into psychiatric care, but had seen her every day.

The next pages were covered in Jarod's handwriting. He had jotted down information, some relevant, some that had later turned out the be meaningless.

Amanda's mother had left her father and not even her friends had known what had so suddenly destroyed what seemed to have been a rather happy marriage for almost ten years. Neither of the two had started any new relationships.

Only when Jarod had found out that Amanda's father hadn't been in the on-call room of the hospital all night from a nurse who had only realized herself that a long gone trainee nurse who'd had a crush on the doctor, had covered for him, when he hadn't been present for the only emergency that had come in that night. Since it had not been grave but a mere false alert of a pregnant woman who hadn't been in labor after all, nobody had noticed. The nurse had never made the connection. From that point Jarod had helped himself to the doctor's keys and raided his apartment that had contained a still blood-stained shirt. A DNA-Analysis later, it had been clear that Amanda's father was guilty as sin. He had confessed what he'd done after one of Jarod's little plots involving a confrontation on a bridge and a -miraculously- lose crash-barrier. Now he was set for trial, safely looked away behind bars and thus unable to kidnap his daughter or throw rocks at people and windows.

After turning the last page, she leaned back, sighing and finishing the last of the awful sherry. This was going nowhere. Maybe they were just faced with some lunatic who enjoyed worried people and terrified little girls...

She picked up Amanda's teddybear and suddenly found herself to be very emotional. It felt as if her own young self was again trapped in a hopeless situation and she realized that she had to find Amanda as much for the girl's sake as for her own.

She had only caught a glimpse of her dead mother in the elevator, but Amanda had been forced to witness how her own father had killed her. No wonder she had refused to speak since. Miss Parker remembered the feeling of her throat contracting at the sight of the lifeless body on the floor, covered in blood. What if that feeling had simply never left Amanda? Was she still terrified? Or did she refuse to give her father away to the authorities? Miss Parker herself knew best how irrational a daughter could be in loyalty to her beloved father. Especially a girl as young and innocent as little Amanda.

She looked up to the door opening and felt guilty against her will because Jarod had caught her with alcohol.

"Is that my cooking-sherry?" he asked and she cocked an eyebrow at him, hoping that it would suffice to tell him not to go down that road.

"Did you find anything?" she asked quickly, before he could start another one of his lectures about the influence alcohol supposedly had on ulcers.

"No. There are fingerprints apart from ours and some small ones that look like Amanda's, but they didn't get a match."

"So the person who did this is either sure he'll never be caught or really dumb."

Jarod nodded and sat down next to Parker, thoughtfully staring at the teddybear for a moment, then turned to Parker.

"Did you find anything we've missed?"

She shrugged. "Nothing valuable. Although I've been wondering whether the nurse might have something to do with it. She supposedly had a crush on Amanda's father. Maybe she's up to something."

Jarod shook his head regretfully. "I am sure she's not. The poor girl finished her training a week after the murder and was on her way to her new job in Alabama when she died in a road accident. Tragic."

Miss Parker sighed, her last hope gone for now. Although, as usual, the alcohol had a somewhat calming effect on her, she felt dissatisfied, as if trapped in a nightmare.

"There must be _something_ we can do."

"There's not. And I suggest we fly under the radar of the police for the moment. They've seen too much of us already and if they care to check us out and do some digging, they might realize that both our names are false."

Miss Parker nodded and looked outside where the sunrise was obscured by clouds that promised more rain for the day.

"Shall we drive back to the children's home?" he asked. "Maybe there's something we failed to see there."

She shook her head. "It's hopeless. All we can do is wait for results or for the kidnapper to give us another clue."

After another moment of silence Jarod couldn't help it anymore and finally cut to the chase.

"About what you said earlier..." he began and ignored the alarmed look that flashed in her eyes. "I thought about that one and I wondered... you must have felt betrayed by me. I mean, we used to be friends and then I ran away and you were forced into that role of the merciless huntress. I have been laughing in your face all this time and you must have felt..."

She cut him off: "Don't try to fix me. I'm not broken. I was just fed up with your self-righteousness."

She wasn't easy to read and he couldn't tell whether she meant it.

Parker looked at Jarod and hoped that he wouldn't realize that he had hit home with what he had said. As cheesy as it had sounded, he had finally understood what had made her so angry all those years, what had fueled her on her hunt for him.

Now that he had finally apologized for his demeanor she felt that she should apologize, too, for calling him "labrat", for throwing insults at him, for telling him how pathetic he was and making him feel how much she supposedly hated him.

"_Why do you hate me so much?" _

His earlier words echoed inside her head and made her wince. He actually thought she hated him. He couldn't be farther from the truth. Had she truly hated him, she wouldn't have come here, she wouldn't have tried to kiss him and she wouldn't have been upset because of him.

How could a genius like Jarod not realize it?

Truth was that she just didn't want to apologize. She didn't dare to tear down the last barrier between them because she was just too afraid of what might happen. Right now she could still tell herself that he didn't want her because of what had happened. If she confessed that she had done him wrong too, they would have to be friends. And she couldn't stand being his friend. She actually couldn't stand being anyone's friend. Opening up to and liking someone meant displaying weak spots and that meant being prone to being hurt.

"I think we should go back to the hospital and try to find out whether anyone has noticed anything unusual about Amanda," Jarod said.

Miss Parker nodded, fully aware of the fact, that their search was very likely to remain fruitless since the police had surely had the same idea. It was just that they both couldn't stand having to simply wait- and being alone with each other.

* * *

The hospital was busy with people even this early in the morning and Jarod and Miss Parker weren't caught when they snug into Amanda's now empty hospital room and examined the window that had been secured with tape and cardboard.

Their quick search of the room - as expected- didn't turn up anything else than Amanda's patient's file. Miss Parker flipped through it aimlessly, not knowing what she expected. That the kidnapper had left any greetings for them?

She turned the pages grimly, then found a date that caught her eye. It had been only a day before Amanda's mother had been killed. Her father had obviously dropped Amanda off after a hospital visit when she'd had a routine check-up done, then went home and come back the next day to slaughter Amanda's mother. Miss Parker felt fury rise inside her. How could he? Be nice one day and come back with a killing-wish the next? How evil was the world? And why did she feel so damn reminded of that one Christmas when her father had given her mother an expensive necklace and kissed her neck while helping her put it on, then beat her so badly the next day that her neck had been bruised just where his lips had touched her bare skin the day before?

She swallowed and felt the sudden desire to simply take Amanda in her arms and tell her that she could do it if she herself had done it. Some people were damaged goods, but there was still a way to not fall apart.

"Hey. Are you okay?" She felt Jarod's hand on her shoulder, and for the first time, thought it reassuring. Before she could stop herself, she had put her hand on top of his.

"It's just..." she forced herself to stop and quickly closed the file, replacing it where she had found it. "I'm okay. Just a little tired."

Jarod felt his skin tingle where her hand had been and tried to hide his feelings behind a shrug.

"Let's go and have a look around to see which medical staff was on duty yesterday evening."

She nodded and followed him out, the images of her beaten mother blurring with those of Amanda's mother inside her head.

* * *

Marcus Jones stood down the corridor and watched Miss Parker leave. Her business-card was still in his pocket, her scent in his nose. After all those years he had never thought he could be infatuated with anyone else, but now...

He watched her walk ahead of Jarod and wondered what she had to do with him. He actually liked Jarod, but he felt somewhat at odds with him now that he had to consider him a rival. He mentally slapped himself, telling himself to focus. This was not the time to fall in love with someone and ponder possible rivals.

Not after what had happened.

**...to be continued...**


	11. Eleven

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**11**

The sleepless night had begun to show on Miss Parker's face despite the expertly applied make-up. Her attitude towards the hospital staff they questioned grew more and more hostile with every futile attempt to gain information. Jarod finally pulled her out of what was about to become a heated argument with a physician and whispered: "A word, Susanne?"

She followed him into the hall, hands in her hair and looked up at him with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm sorry," she surprised him, before he could say anything. "It's just that I absolutely hate to feel that helpless."

He reached out for her shoulder and gently pulled her into him. To his surprise she didn't resist, but reluctantly placed her hand against his back. He rested his own hand against the back of her head where he felt her soft hair. His fingers slipped beneath the dark strands and cradled her head against his shoulders gently.

"I understand," he whispered to her. "It's been a tough day for the both of us."

They remained in each other arms for a moment and neither wanted to pull back. Then finally Miss Parker took a step back and smiled tentatively.

"What about getting some lunch somewhere and then we could drop by at Angela's and see whether she's learned anything new."

Miss Parker suggesting anything as trivial as having lunch put Jarod off somewhat, but when he had caught himself, he nodded.

"I know a nice place just down the road. Come on."

They walked down the corridor towards the car-park together, their shoulders brushing now and again.

Ten minutes later they were sitting on a table near the window in a quiet little French restaurant that overlooked the hospital park. Miss Parker was very eager to hide her face inside the menu to avoid Jarod noticing her inner turmoil. She was so busy trying to convince herself that she was trembling because of her lack of sleep and not because of Jarod's embrace, that she didn't hear the waiter approach.

She only came up behind the menu when the waiter addressed her with a heavy French accent. Jarod noticed her confusion and momentary loss of speech and ordered water for both of them.

"I remember you like coc au vin?" he asked, softly and when she looked up, he saw desire in her eyes. Somehow he suspected that it wasn't for the chicken.

But the moment ended as suddenly as it had begun when she shook her head slightly as if to chase dizziness away. Or rather unwelcome thoughts?

Now that he had apologized to her for what had gone wrong in the past and since she now allowed him to touch her, he felt as if her behavior was some sort of apology in its own way- if grudging somehow.

Still, the usual banter that had consisted of both hostile and alluring elements didn't seem to fit them anymore and neither of them knew how to act or how to deal with the new situation at all.

Miss Parker finally folded her hands in front of her on the table and silently looked up from them at Jarod, how was mirroring her actions unconsciously.

"This is pathetic," she almost snarled, but the ghost of a smile that accompanied her words betrayed her harsh tone.

"In what way?" he spoke teasingly, just like he had done so frequently in the past.

"The only way we knew how to deal with each other was to argue. Now that we don't have anything to argue about anymore, we're kind of lost."

He grinned despite himself. She was quite brilliant at getting straight to the point.

"You're right," he finally admitted. "It's quite hard to sweettalk you."

She cocked an eyebrow and Jarod tried hard not to laugh.

"Sweettalk me? Did you just invent a word?"

"Nah. It's just not in your vocabulary."

"My vocabulary must exceed yours. Otherwise I wouldn't have you speechless so often lately."

"Oh, don't make yourself believe that you owe that to your intellectual qualities. I'm just after your body."

That was the point when they both broke into fits of laughter and couldn't stop even when the sour-faced waiter arrived to serve their food.

It felt good to laugh and to be able to forget about Amanda's predicament and their own part in it for even a moment.

* * *

The sky was heavy with clouds once again when they returned to the children's home. Rain was falling in big drops and hammered a mad rhythm onto the car roof. Jarod cursed when he noticed that the gate was closed. He opened the car door and stepped out onto the rain-sodden ground. He felt his foot sink in slightly and listened to the wet sound of his footsteps when he walked over to the alarm pad where he keyed in the code to mechanically open the gate. He looked up at the sign over it and froze.

It was white and was adorned with plain bold letters spelling "BUTTERFLY CHILDREN'S SHELTER" a butterfly was stenciled above the letters next to a yellow sun, whose rays touched the letters. One of the rays them was longer than the others and reached down to the bottom of the bold letter "H".

Jarod swirled around and ran for the car, slamming the door behind him as soon as he was inside. He hurriedly ripped the blood-stained sheet of paper from his pocket and looked at its severed top. He had been right.

What had seemed like a meaningless irregularity in the paper's surface before was actually a small yellow dot that seemed to have touched what remained of the bold letter H.

Miss Parker had followed his gaze from the sign to the paper and her eyes widened.

"Thank god for your photographic memory!" she murmured, impressed.

"Whoever wrote this was in possession of our stationery," Jarod concluded and for a moment they simply stared at each other.

"Do you think Angela's behind it? Or Jenny?"

He could hear the slight edge in her voice when she said Jenny's name and shook his head.

"I can't imagine either of them doing such a thing. It must be someone who was inside the shelter lately."

"Or is there right now," Miss Parker said. "He wouldn't have ripped the top of if it wouldn't mean anything. And if it's not a staff-member, there must be another reason why he didn't want us to know that he was in possession of that particular stationery. Look, what would you do if you needed a sheet of paper and you were in some part of that house? Wouldn't you take what you can grab?"

Jarod looked at her, incredulous.

"Do you means he's keeping her inside the home?"

"Why not? Look at the house!"

A jolt of thunder made Jarod's heart skip a beat along with the possibilities when he looked at the large house. There was a large attic running the length at the house and the spacious basement was used for storage of things that were needed only in the summer. Also there were smaller buildings on the property that stored gardening tools. Miss Parker was right. Even if Amanda screamed, there were lots of places on this property where nobody could hear her.

"Shall we call the police?" he asked.

"And tell them what?" Miss Parker challenged. "That we found a note attached to our kitchen telling us that her kidnaping was our fault? Big deal. They'd find out our fake-identities in the blink of an eye."

She was right.

"Then let's have a look around ourselves then."

For once Miss Parker didn't complain about the fact that her shoes would be ruined after their excursion. She simply briskly walked behind Jarod and stayed so close that he could see her breath in the floodlights. He only hoped that nobody was looking out the window, wondering why they were crossing the lawn in this rain, heading towards the first shack.

Reaching it, they found it locked and empty. Jarod shone the torch he had taken from the car's trunk into the dusty window and found only brooms and toys.

It was the same with the next two and the last one's door stood wide open, its inside empty except for a stray cat that ran past them hissing and vanished in the gloomy afternoon.

"Great," Miss Parker commented. "We're going to catch pneumonia and die out here. Then the Centre will find us and they'll wonder- boy, they'll wonder."

He gave her a strange look and rested his hand on her back for a moment.

"Let's go into the house. If she's there we'll find her."

"Shall we ask Angela to help us?"

"Let's just keep it under wraps just now."

They turned around and crossed the muddy garden lawn again, heading towards the house. It had seemed charming to Miss Parker before, but now that she looked up at it, wondering whether Amanda was being held a prisoner somewhere in its depths, she shuddered, feeling a dark presence rather than a welcoming when they entered.

Jarod had chosen to use one of the back-doors that led them into a wing of the building that was used as the children's home's office space. It was mostly empty since Angela and her staff usually only worked here when the children were already in bed. The lights were turned off and Jarod motioned for Parker not to switch them on, shining his torchlight into the corners instead. The corridor was long and lacked the cheerful yellow paint, but otherwise appeared to look exactly the same as the one in the other wing. The four rooms held two offices, a small kitchen appliance and a file-room that looked mildly chaotic.

Parker followed Jarod to the door at the end of the corridor and felt her heartbeat quicken when he fumbled with his keys and finally opened the door.

Behind it was an old-looking staircase that led upwards towards a dark void that must be the attic. Parker took a deep breath before she stepped into the darkness behind Jarod. The old stairs creaked as their combined weight was put upon them and momentarily drowned out the ghostly sound of the wind howling in the old woodwork.

She didn't hesitate to take Jarod's outstretched hand and let him help her up the last steep stair. There was old furniture all around, all covered in white sheets. It looked like a landscape of square objects that unsettled Miss Parker somehow for there were shadows all around. It reminded her of areas in the Centre that she had been forbidden to enter, but had explored nonetheless. It reminded her of mysterious objects and screams whose origin she had never found out. Today she was grateful for that particular fact, but as a little girl it had driven her mad.

Jarod chases the shadows away with the torchlight, but found only dust.

"I don't believe there's someone here," he said quietly and Parker was about to nod, but then a feeling too strong to ignore rose up inside her.

She wordlessly took the flashlight from Jarod and shone it into the other direction where she found only a brick-wall.

"What's behind that?" she asked Jarod.

"Nothing, I guess."

Parker fell silent for a moment, then shook her head. With sudden determination she banged against the wall.

"Are you crazy?" Jarod asked and she swirled around to face him.

"Old houses often have secret doors," she whispered. "My parents' house used to have one. This wing is the mirror image of the other. There must be a room behind this wall."

"The other wing doesn't have a staircase to reach the attic. This is the only way up. There can't be a room behind that wall."

Parker shone the flashlight onto the floor and froze. The dust had been unsettled there and the faint imprint of footsteps was visible on the wooden flooring. The last one was cut in half, it second part appearing to be behind the wall.

She looked at Jarod, then ran her hand over the wall and finally found a small cavity that was just big enough for her hand to fit in. She pushed carefully, then felt the wall move.

She felt Jarod's reassuring presence behind her when she entered the room behind it. A moment later she felt him wince, startled when the light revealed a glistering pool of blood next to the motionless body of a small child.

**... to be continued ...**


	12. Twelve

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**12**

_Tumbling down,_

_The rain comes down like a victory,_

_In sheets of shining memory,_

_Over and over_

The rain had stopped and given way to a sudden unexpected silence. Parker closed her eyes, frozen to the spot, feeling her heart contract painfully. Images were blurring inside her mind again. Pictures ripped from newspapers of a bloodied corpse covered by a sheet, the fuzzy black and white video of a DSA showing her mother's motionless body inside an elevator, Thomas' empty face and the bullet-wound on his forehead.

She felt his body cooling in her arms again as she was waiting for the ambulance, felt the Sweeper's restraining hands hurting her arms while trying to keep her away from her mother's body.

When she dared to open her eyes again, Jarod was kneeling next to the child, his hands on her throat to feel her pulse.

A loud hissing noise that seemed to fill her head drowned out his words and she felt another sharp pain in her chest. Pressing her hand again her upper body, she stumbled forwards and sank down to her knees next to Jarod.

His hand came up to her cheek and he made her look at him. Still she couldn't make out his words and only when she concentrated on his lips, she realized what he was saying:

"She's alive."

She took a deep breath and looked at the little girl whose eyes were open now and so filled with agony that Parker felt it must come pouring out of her any minute. The girl reached her hand out for Parker and she slowly took it. She suddenly felt weak with shock and relief at the same time.

"Amanda..." she whispered and wrapped her arms around the child, pulling her towards her.

Despite the cold Amanda's body felt warm in Parker's arms and she almost sobbed at the feeling of the girl's hands clinging to the back of her jacket.

Jarod stood next to them and felt his legs tremble with sudden relief. They had found the child alive and although there was blood, it didn't seem to be hers.

He watched Parker's face that showed all kinds of feelings for once. It was like a puppet come alive after all that had moved it in the past -at least in his presence- had been a raised eyebrow. Now she seemed to be close to tears although she was still holding up.

She opened her eyes and looked straight into his, giving him just the hint of a small smile.

Parker then straightened up and took Amanda with her who clung to her neck, burying her face in her shoulder. They both knew that even now the girl wouldn't be ready to talk and somehow, after all they had endured, they weren't either. Wordlessly, they headed for the door, Parker walking slowly and carefully as opposed to her usual stride.

* * *

"Oh my god!"

Jenny's screaming had alerted Angela immediately and they both came running towards Parker and Jarod when they walked in from the hallway.

Jenny looked positively horrified as she reached out for her protegee while Angela looked more relieved than anything.

"Where did you find her?" she asked Jarod, who from the corner of his eye saw Parker stiffen and give poor Jenny a raised eyebrow that was very much herself compared to the softness she'd been showing earlier.

"She was up in the attic," Jarod explained, voice raised slightly as to alert Parker to what he was saying so that their stories wouldn't differ from each other. She gave him an acknowledging nod that was lost on Angela and on Jenny who was busy preparing a warm cup of hot chocolate for Amanda, who was still refusing to let go of Parker.

"We went there because we heard funny noises when we were in the offices looking for Amanda's file. Susanne was going to have a look at it."

Angela nodded and nudged his cheek affectionally. "I am so glad you found..." she trailed off when she realized the implications of what Jarod had just said.

"You mean the person who kidnaped her was inside this building? Do you think the other children are in danger?"

Jarod placed a calming hand on her arm. "I doubt it. I think all this has to do with Amanda in some way."

Angela shook her head and touched her hand to her forehead. "I can't believe it. We have to call the police."

She gingerly walked over to the counter to get the phone and Jarod felt bad for the woman who was trying to appear strong, squaring her shoulders while he realized she rather felt like crying.

While Angela was on the phone he directed his attention at Parker and Amanda. Parker had sat down on the small couch that stood in one corner and was whispering to Amanda who seemed to be even more frightened than she had been earlier. Maybe now that reality had sunk in and that there was somebody who was protecting her, she had only realized how much of a horror the past days had been.

Jenny was still busy with the hot chocolate. Her hands were shaking and she looked close to tears. Jarod marveled at how different she and Parker were. While Jenny was barely holding back her emotions, Parker had turned to stone again, shutting her own pain away while trying to be there for Amanda. They were both attractive in their own ways. Parker's allure came from her icy elegance while Jenny was cute and somewhat clumsy. She had noticed that Jarod was watching her and gave him a timid smile while she poured the hot chocolate and carried the mug over to Amanda.

"Who would do such a thing?" she asked in a little voice when she sat down next to Miss Parker who gave her another dirty look in response. Jarod felt a little embarrassed for her, since it was obvious that Jenny was only seeking advice or even some sort of protection from the older woman. Strange enough that anyone would pick Parker as a guardian of all people. She didn't seem to understand the phenomenon either so she simply left the question unanswered and went back to smoothing Amanda's hair back.

"I mean... a little girl! Up there!"

Jarod was about to tell her to stop because Amanda was still in the room, but was interrupted by a familiar figure suddenly filling the doorframe.

"Marcus!" Angela who had finished her phone-call ran towards the good-looking dark-haired doctor who had just come in. Jarod saw the panic that registered on Parker's face but couldn't think of a reason for her sudden discomfort. Marcus' face lit up at the sight of her and he smiled at her, positively mesmerized, while hugging Angela.

"You remember my cousin Marcus, Jarod? Marcus, this is Susanne Sommer. She is a children's psychologist from Germany. They have just found Amanda..."

Miss Parker felt her muscles tighten. She would have made a dash for the door, hadn't she been holding Amanda. Vaguely she reckoned she now knew just how Jarod must have felt every single time she had nearly caught him.

"Susanne?" Marcus asked. The obvious besotted look in his eyes had given way to confusion and just the hint of vigilance.

She opened her mouth to explain but couldn't really come up with anything. She had given him her business-card with her real name, she had told him that she was from Delaware and she had spoken to him in perfect English without the slightest hint of any accent, let alone the heavy German one she used around here. What was she to do? And how could she have been so dumb?

"I thought your name was Miss Parker!" Marcus exclaimed and she could see in Jarod's face that even boy-genius was slowly realizing what was going on.

Angela now looked confused, too and so did Jenny. _Damn_!

"No, Marcus. You must be confusing something. Jarod brought her here a few days ago to help Amanda."

"So Amanda was the child you were looking after in the hospital?" Marcus asked Miss Parker and she was so out of words to say that she shot a pleading look at Jarod who cleared his throat.

"I guess this is my mistake..." he began, but Marcus didn't allow him to finish.

"I should have known there was something weird about you! First you keep nosing around trying to find out who killed Stella and then you frame..." He covered his mouth with his hand and looked at Amanda apologetically. The girl had looked up from Miss Parker's shoulder and was now looking at him.

Slowly he approached her and dropped to his knees next to her not without giving Miss Parker a warning look that told her that he would get back to her soon.

"I am sorry, baby," he whispered and touched her shoulder lightly. Amanda just looked at him, then lay her head back on Miss Parker's shoulder.

"I suggest you bring her upstairs, Jennifer," Angela said in a commanding voice. "There is a lot to be cleared up down here, I suppose."

Miss Parker was very unwilling to hand Amanda over to Jenny and the little girl went into something of a shocked rigor when the other woman took her. Amanda gave Miss Parker a frightened look.

"It's okay, honey," Parker soothed. "I will come up to say goodnight later."

She wasn't so sure whether she would be allowed to after having faced the inquisition of these two. Why did she have to meet Angela's cousin of all people? She might have come up with that earlier after learning that they were both called Jones, but she hadn't really noticed since the name was pretty common.

Jarod was very much aware of the fact that he had to save Miss Parker. Her dark gaze cleared up when he approached her and Marcus Jones and turned almost sheepish.

"I can explain."

* * *

"Right now I feel a little bit like killing you, Jarod," Miss Parker said after a long deliberate silence that had not just recently started to become quite awkward. "If I had my gun with me I would very much like to practice my aim on you."

"And here I went thinking that you didn't need to practice because it was perfect anyway," he replied calmly.

Miss Parker turned her head towards him, taking her eyes off the windscreen wipers for the first time since they had gotten in the car.

"It is. That is the whole point, Jarod."

They stared at each other for a moment, then the corners of Miss Parker's mouth began to twitch slightly. Since he knew that she was used to hiding all kinds of feelings, but never held back on her amusement, he knew that she wouldn't be able to resist for too long.

And he was right. Only moments later, a light chuckle escaped her lips, then a second followed and Jarod found himself joining into what was the closest thing to a laughing fit that he had ever seen Miss Parker in.

"You..." she gasped between fits of laughter. "... are completely nuts!"

"I just saved your ass, that is," he answered, gaze directed at the dark driveway they were turning into. He stopped the car in front of the house and turned towards a still laughing Miss Parker who was clutching her handbag fiercely as if to prevent herself from laughing any harder.

"Yeah just how. I knew in theory that you were a genius, but I never expected you to think that far outside the box."

She was still laughing with her head thrown back and the raindrops landing on her face, but she didn't seem to care when she walked ahead, her trousers still sprayed with mud from their earlier odyssey through the gardens and her handbag swinging back and forth in her hand. She looked so adorable that he had a hard time not lurching forward and grabbing her to...

"Jarod. Stop staring into space and open the door," Parker called cheerfully from the door. With watching her he had completely forgotten to move his legs to get to the door. Feeling sheepish, he hurried after her and unlocked the front-door.

"I'll go upstairs and run a bath," Miss Parker told him, filling his head with unwelcome images.

"_Get a grip, Jarod_!" he told himself.

She just shook her head, gave him another amused smile and went upstairs. A moment later he heard the sound of running water and the unmistakable sound of chuckling.

He hadn't found his story quite that amusing, though, but Miss Parker had already had a hard time holding back when they had still been sitting in the kitchen. He himself, used to crafting exotic stories when his cover was close to being blown, had made up a story in a matter of seconds and also been able to keep a somber face through all of it.

He had first shot a snide remark at his "colleague" for being so careless, to which Miss Parker had responded with a regretful shake of her head, then he had, along with pacifying gestures, had placidly told the others the story of Stella's old friend from school that, horrified by the news of her death, had come over from Germany where she now lived, to see Amanda.

He then elaborated that Miss Parker who worked with kids that had been left orphans because of murder cases in Germany had wondered whether she could use her expertise to help Amanda overcome her trauma. She had chosen to give herself a fake-identity to cover-up her connection to the child whom she'd never met in order to avoid people keeping her away for reasons of protocol.

He had went on to describe how Miss Parker had tearfully admitted the whole fraud to him only one nights prior to today, expressing her regret on how she had had to pretend to be someone else in front of all those lovely people.

When he had said the word "lovely", Miss Parker had been forced to fight back laughter for the first time and he had shot her a warning look that had not gone unnoticed.

"I am so terribly sorry, but Stella was such a good friend at school and I just felt I owed it to her to try to help Amanda. I was so afraid you'd do some research and make the connection immediately," Miss Parker had added then, her voice quivering.

Angela had frowned, then shaken her head while Jenny had looked positively puzzled. Marcus hadn't looked as if he bought it until Miss Parker gave him a look that was accompanied by a very strategically placed flutter of her eyelids that had done the trick.

"Why'd you say you were from Delaware then?" he asked her and Parker shrugged.

"My Daddy lives there."

Whatever, they had bought it, if grudgingly.

And although Jarod knew that his story had been a far cry, it had come in handy for him that Stella had indeed had a high-school friend by the name of Parker that had moved to Europe. He had come across that bit of information during a nightly visit to the crime-scene, when he had raided her drawers for information that might somehow lead him to her killer.

They wouldn't have the means to follow up far on his story, but if they actually tried to find out about it, they would probably be satisfied with the picture of the little black haired girl named Lisa Parker that he himself had come across weeks earlier.

Although he was relieved at how things had turned out, he couldn't quite push the thought aside that Amanda's kidnapper was still at large. The story hadn't been clarified and although keeping the girl safe was more important than everything else now, he still felt uneasy about that particular fact.

The water upstairs had stopped running and promptly his mind returned to his second current problem. Miss Parker's close proximity continued to make him dizzy and the many different sides that she had displayed over the last days simply served to make everything worse. He had always had a soft spot for her but now that they had been spending that much time together he had to admit that, as cheesy as it sounded, he loved everything about her, from her strange sense of humor, to her impossible demeanor, to her occasional smiles.

Earlier he had told himself that, set aside their personal history, he couldn't possibly be with a woman that was that callous and heartless. Now he had to come up with other excuses to not come to the inevitable conclusion: Even if she wanted him, too, they were both broken people. They couldn't be together, because you couldn't fight fire with fire. Their lives had always been entwined and it had never brought them anything else than heartache.

Should they ever be able to get away from the Centre, the scars would still be there and though not impossible, it was highly unlikely that they'd ever fade away.

The images from the night just a few days ago invaded his mind with force, her bare shoulders and raised leg haunting him. Besides himself he suddenly made a decision that he knew to be completely wrong if not possibly fatal.

* * *

Miss Parker opened her eyes when there was a knock at the bathroom door.

"Jarod?" she called and when his muffled voice confirmed it was him, added: "Come in."

She sank a little deeper into the foam that filled the tub when he stepped in and shyly peeked around the door.

"Don't be bashful on me. I bet you've seen a lot more than that."

He finally walked in and she was surprised to discover he was holding a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

"You brought wine?"

"Thought you enjoyed a glass in the tub."

"You bet."

She watched as he poured them each a glass and sat down on the toilet seat. She cocked an eyebrow at that but decided that she would wait for whatever this would lead to. Sipping the wine she was once again surprised.

"Nice choice. This one is really good. I didn't know that you were an expert on wine."

"Thanks. I was a winemaker once on a pretend."

She smiled. "Why didn't you send leads so we'd end up there?"

He grinned back. "Because I knew you'd get dead drunk and I was afraid you'd frighten Broots."

She snorted and took another sip. "I am never dead drunk, Jarod. It would take a barrel of that to actually get me tipsy."

"I've seen you pretty drunk before."

"On scotch. A bottle of that suffices."

He gave her a worried look and she rolled her eyes at him. She felt as relaxed as you can only feel after a real fit of hysterical laughter. Thinking back to the disbelief in Angela's, Marcus' and Jenny's face she started to smile again. There she'd been, thinking that she had blown it, when Jarod had come to her aid, bailing her out with his usual vigor. She had to admit she had felt a bit impressed- a fact she would never tell Jarod.

"I am so glad Amanda's back. She'll be safe with Angela and Jenny taking turns sleeping in her room."

"Think so," Parker answered thoughtfully. "Tell me, you saw me with Marcus in the hospital -why didn't you tell me he had something to do with Angela? I would have been more careful then."

Jarod began to look evasive and only when she turned her famous Parker glare on him, admitted: "I didn't really see him in that hospital corridor. I just saw you."

Surprised at his honest words that held a multitude of possibilities, Miss Parker even forgot to be rude.

"What?" she asked softly.

Jarod didn't answer but simply sipped his wine. A gesture that Miss Parker found very alluring without consciously allowing herself to. And then she realized how ridiculous their situation was. They were sitting here, drinking wine, her naked in the bathtub and Jarod saying things that pointed towards deeper feelings for her.

She suddenly began to feel very uneasy. If this was leading where she thought it was, she didn't know whether she wanted to go along with it or not.

Yesterday she had wanted to kiss Jarod so badly that his rejection had hurt her worse than she had thought possible and when he had pulled her into him in the hospital she had felt herself plagued by the famous butterflies in her stomach that other people welcomed with open arms.

Miss Parker hated being in love. It just brought about sorrow and mayhem.

"Turn around," she commanded when a familiar panic rose up inside her. He obeyed in silence and she got up, wrapping a towel around her with frenzied hands that had suddenly started shaking.

Jarod turned back when she had almost reached the door.

"What...?" he began, but she silenced him with a raised hand.

"I am going home."

"You're what?"

He followed her into the bedroom and put the wineglass down on the dresser with some force.

"Why so suddenly?"

"We found Amanda and you could only bail me out with a story that is bound to be proven to be a lie sooner or later. I'd better get going now before they arrest me for some exotic crime."

He frowned. "But we didn't solve the mystery yet."

She turned around to him again when she was sure he couldn't see the confusion in her eyes anymore for she had hidden it well enough to go undetected.

"I don't care about the mystery, Jarod. This is not some novel that will only end when all secrets have been cleared. It's just our twisted life and I never asked to be pulled into one of your pretends."

He shook his head and suddenly looked a lot like Sydney.

"What is it you are really afraid of, Miss Parker?"

"Like I told you, I am just sick of all this."

"You're not. You want to find out who is doing this to Amanda as well as I do and you want to help her get over her trauma even more than I do because you've been through it yourself."

Parker's eyes narrowed with her growing anger, but Jarod continued anyway. He wouldn't let her get away with this. It was time for her to face her demons or she'd forever be haunted by them- just like Amanda if they didn't find a way to help her.

"And you know what? I think you're just sick of me!"

There was a momentary silence that was also filled with a bristling electricity that foreshadowed the outburst that was to follow.

"Of course I am sick of you! You cannot even once get off your high horse and level with me. Why do you always have to try to show me that you're superior in one way or another?"

Jarod was stunned. He had no idea what she was talking about since in this matter he was not a single step ahead of her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're playing games and I am truly sick of it!"

"What games?" he asked, helplessly.

She approached him, one hand holding on to the towel, the other colliding with his cheek in a thundering slap in his face. But her hand strangely remained on his face afterwards, cupping his cheek and cooling off the heat that she had inflicted along with the pain.

Her eyes were blazing with fury when she finally pulled him towards him and crushed his lips in a violent kiss.

Jarod was too taken aback to resist her demanding lips and shared a kiss with Miss Parker that couldn't have been more different from that first innocent kiss they had shared many years ago.

There was an almost triumphant if still angry look in Miss Parker's eyes when she pulled back a minute later.

"Damn you. I'm leaving now."

"Wait!" Jarod called after her when she was about to walk out into the hall.

"What?" she stopped in the doorway.

"Shouldn't you get dressed first?"

...** to be continued **...

Please tell me what you think! - As a little Christmas Present? ;-)


	13. Thirteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**13**

Jarod held Miss Parker's evil stare for a while, then pointedly looked her towel-wrapped body up and down.

"I bet the neighbors would like it. At least the male ones, I suppose. The female ones would probably only get jealous."

Miss Parker waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Don't try to flatter me."

He shrugged and watched as she pulled her underwear from her bag while he was unable to ignore the fact that it was made from black lace. A moment later he got the bathroom-door slammed into his face when he dared to make an attempt at following her.

When she returned, she had tied her robe around her and the angry expression on her face had softened to the point of mild annoyance.

Jarod stood beside the chest of drawers next to the door, his hand around the handle of his wineglass. He felt ridiculous as well as somewhat cool- like a character from a forties movie.

Miss Parker sat down on her bed and sighed, then looked up at him, taking in his appearance.

"Do you plan on standing there all evening?" she asked as casually as she was able to after her earlier outburst.

"I haven't made any plans, yet," he answered calmly.

"Well, nice to hear someone is living for the moment."

She folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at the opposite wall for a bit, then ran her hand through her hair and looked up at him with an exasperated sigh.

"We've got to stop doing this."

"Do what?"

She gave him a long irritated look. "Making complete fools of ourselves."

"How exactly?" he replied, willing himself to stop the banter in order to not cross the line again that she had so splendidly leapt over mere minutes ago. His lips still hurt where hers had been pressed upon them and he really had to admit that Miss Parker was an awfully good kisser.

She gave a dismissive wave with her hand as if to make him understand that he was once again missing the whole point. And maybe he was.

"What is it about us?" she asked boldly. She didn't usually talk about her feelings except for when she yelled at Broots just how freaking angry she was, so it wasn't easy for her to find the right words. Heck, she didn't even come up with the wrong ones.

"I mean..." She felt herself begin to feel annoyed at the fact that boy-genius didn't seem to be inclined to do anything else than silently stare at her. "... what are we trying to do?"

"Work together I suppose," he replied in a distant voice that once again made her blood boil inside her veins.

"We both know that it's crap. You might try to appear like Mister Know it All and pretend to not be attracted to me but I know damn right you are!"

The moment she'd said it, she regretted it and wished she could take it back. Saying things like that was very likely to lead to nothing but humiliation. Miss Parker knew all too well that she had been submitting herself to her father's humiliation for too damn long and although she couldn't stop herself from it, she was able to escape other people's contempt.

Before Jarod had a chance to recover from the impact of her sudden openness, she had swept up her clothes and made a dash for the bathroom where she hurriedly got dressed.

It came in handy for her that she hadn't transferred many of her clothes from her bag yet. She wasn't one to trust in the fact that she would stay anywhere for long, knowing her erratic nature far too well.

Jarod had been gradually awakening from his stupor and snapped fully back into rational thinking when she grabbed her coat and headed past him.

"Where are you going?" he asked and she turned her cold face at him.

"None of your business. You've been messing with my head for a bit too long."

He tried to grab her arm but she gave him a warning stare accompanied by a very pointedly raised eyebrow.

"No matter what you were going to say, I am not hearing it. I've had enough."

He looked almost sullen for a moment, which made her break another rule of their game: "And don't worry. I won't call the Sweepers on you. If I ever ground your sorry ass I'll do it in a fair game of you run I chase."

She turned away from him, bag in hand and didn't spare him another glance when she headed for the front-door. Jarod winced when he heard the sound of the door being shut with some force.

* * *

Jarod had been contemplating the bottle of wine for a while before he had taken a sip of it, quickly followed by another. Truth was he hadn't called Miss Parker and her sidekicks to the winemaker he had been working for because he had been enjoying himself too damn much. Jarod, as childlike as he sometimes was, had discovered that he was fond of wine. At first he had tasted the sweeter ones, but had long since discovered that he preferred the dry, interesting ones. He had spent a lot of time sitting with the winemaker and his wife, trying new wines and sometimes had got a little tipsy in the process. So it came to be that he was now enriched by experience concerning alcohol and its effect upon him which he had lacked before.

He wasn't much of a drinker, hadn't had much alcohol since his stay at the winery, but today it seemed, he deserved a good drink, he thought. Jarod had never before been drinking out of misery. He usually - if ever- had alcohol at festivities, but usually abandoned his glass after having a couple of sips or to celebrate if he had something to celebrate which didn't happen often since he viewed his victories over villains as more of a duty fulfilled.

Today he was to abandon all of his principle concerning that very subject. He had failed so badly that he wasn't sure whether he wasn't actually feeling like getting himself a bottle of Scotch and down it, quite like Miss Parker often did. Was maybe doing right now.

He thought back to the look in her eyes, to the words she had said to him. She was right. What were they doing, trying to escape their mutual attraction? Why was he that evasive, trying to avoid too much closeness when he really just wanted to bend her backwards like in old-fashioned movies and kiss her until she was out of breath and laughed like one of the actresses in those movies. Only she wouldn't laugh. She would stand up straight again and pull him onto the bed. And he knew once they'd slept together he would never be able to leave her again. Or let her go for that matter.

He had been stupid enough to cross the lines he had drawn himself frequently, like sleeping in her bed, hugging her and visiting her while she was in the bathtub.

She wasn't like the kind of girl who had her hopes up once a man showed signs of attraction to her, but it obviously affected her. Once again he had totally screwed up with her. Why on earth was he so smart and so considerate when it came to anything else than Miss Parker? He was just plain unable to think straight when she was around him.

In this respect it was good for her to be gone so he could continue working with Amanda or just leave her to Angela's good care. She would one day be okay again, maybe even without Miss Parker's help. Miss Parker had confronted some of her demons though not all of them. She had relaxed a bit in his presence - although she would hate him more than ever after this - and she had gotten in touch with some buried feelings, but still it felt as if it could have been better. They could have accomplished so much more together.

While he had been contemplating his failure and her departure, he had been sipping his wine and had been so lost in thought that he hadn't really realized that he had been topping his glass ever so often, that he only noticed when he found the bottle empty.

He shrugged, then in a moment of dramatic antics, opened the second bottle he'd had hidden away so Miss Parker wouldn't drink her sorrows away. Funny, though. Now it was him who succumbed to alcohol. Jarod actually detested numbing his senses. It made him prone to being caught and melancholic about the turn of events in his life.

Although he met so many people during what he did he felt lonely. There were no steady relationships in his life save for the very ambivalent one he shared with his mentor who had doubled as his captor and the very strange and always on some level erotic one with Miss Parker.

He took another sip that actually was much more of a gulp. The wine was fine and expensive and he was sure Miss Parker had noticed that. He missed her already. Her scent and even her mean jokes. She was quite funny really. In a sarcastic way but entertaining nonetheless. Might have been really cool a girl if she hadn't been that damn bitchy around him. He imagined himself looking quite sullen right now, sitting at the table and drinking. Drinking himself into oblivion?

"Hello? Jarod! Get a grip!" Oh Man he was talking to himself. Could it get any worse? He had never been in the habit of talking to himself. Maybe she had called the Sweepers already and they were standing in the doorway, laughing about him.

He emptied another glass of wine and coughed when he drank too quickly. He was a sorry excuse for a genius really. Damn, he was slipping. Maybe he should stop drinking now. But why? The feeling that spread through his arms and legs was nice. He felt relaxed although Miss Parker was running around somewhere in the rainy darkness, probably cursing his very existence. Although he loved her.

Wow. Where had that come from? "_Betrunkene und kleine Kinder sagen die Wahrheit._" He had been meaning to teach Miss Parker some German sayings in order to perfect her act as a German woman but had never got around to it. She would have probably ripped his head off anyway. Well that particular saying meant something along the lines of "Drunk people and small children tell the truth."

Okay, so he was in love with her. So what? Probably Stockholm's syndrome. He was falling in love with his huntress, she was much like a mean-spirited kidnapper, really. Mean woman. Long red nails, dark gaze. Sexy. No.

"Mean. That's what I mean. Mean. Very mean," he murmured to himself.

He took another swallow of the wine and then was mesmerized for a moment by the heavy liquid swirling around in the glass. Cool, he thought.

Oh heavens, he was drunk. He tried to get up to go upstairs but gave up the idea quite quickly because it didn't seem to be wise. He'd probably sway towards the stairs later. Maybe he would just try to get to the couch for now.

He got up and took one staggering step towards his destination, giggling along the way. Had he ever been that drunk? Maybe he just couldn't hold his liquor anymore after he had not been drinking for -what?- six months?

He sat down on the couch and felt for the remote control. There must be something on TV that would get him off his alcohol high. He switched through the channels, passing a lot of boring stuff from a Mexican soap opera to "Who wants to be a millionaire?" and ended up with MTV where they were playing all kinds of love songs at length.

He got stuck with some guys called the Backstreet Boys whom, like many other bands, he had never heard of. The song they performed seemed fitting to him, though. The little experience he had with just listening to music was that sometimes a tune or the lyrics of a song just fit your mood and you feel like the song was written for nobody but you.

That was exactly what happened. From the lyrics to the slightly trashy sound the song reflected just what he was feeling right now.

It was called "Helpless when she smiles" judging from what with his clouded gaze he could still decipher from the writing on the screen. He vaguely wondered whether he would like the song as much when he was sober because it was just a pop song which wasn't what with his knowledge of classical music he usually liked.

But now in his clouded state of mind he just leaned back and listened. Phrases from the lyrics began to fill his mind while he absently sipped more wine which he had actually decided to refrain from doing before.

She keeps her secrets in her eyes, she wraps the truth inside her lies... he thought. Damn right. She was a freaking train wreck, but a very alluring one, he decided, grinning.

When the chorus began again, he started to sing along, slurring very slightly:

"I'm a house of cards in a hurricane

A reckless ride in the pouring rain

She cuts me and the pain

Is all I wanna feel

She'll dance away just like a child

She drives me crazy

Drives me wild

But I'm helpless when she smiles..." he had begun to sing quite loudly towards the end and finished the song loudly on the last two phrases that made him feel very sorry for himself. Closing his eyes dramatically - and he noticed that he must look terribly pathetic even in his drunk state- he belted out: "When she looks at me I get so weak!"

"I'm touched," a resonating voice sounded from the direction of the door and Jarod was so surprised that he fell off the couch.

* * *

Miss Parker felt extremely reminded of Broots when a singing Jarod swallowed the last word in shock as he tumbled off the sofa he had been lounging on, glass of red wine in hand. The glass, just as the two bottles of red wine that lay on the coffee table in weird angles was empty, so it didn't do any damage to the carpet.

Jarod, however, did look a little damaged himself. His gaze was a bit clouded and his movements clumsy which she was sure he owed to the former contents of the empty wine bottles.

"You are back!" he slurred, no clue as to whether he was pleased about it or not transpiring through the layers of drunkenness that covered his voice.

He took a step towards her but stumbled because of the glass that lay at his feet and she felt obliged to step forwards and steady him. He leaned on her which told her that he must be quite smashed because Jarod was normally the quintessential gentleman who would have never allowed a woman to support him unless it was totally necessary.

"You heard me sing?" he asked in a little boy's voice that surprisingly touched something inside her. She liked her men manly and grown-up and detested any childish behavior but Jarod's drunk momentary relapse into boyhood awakened a sense of responsibility and even care inside her that was very unwelcome, yet strong.

She put a hand around his waist and patted his back awkwardly.

"Come on. You need to go to bed."

"You won't go away again?"

"Not if you get drunk like that again. Wouldn't want that on my conscience."

She almost laughed, but bit back. He didn't deserve being made fun of.

"I've never been that drunk," he announced while she helped him climb the stairs which he still did reasonably well.

"I figured that out myself," she answered graciously, thinking back to her first time being drunk back at the boarding-school she'd gone to where she had begun to bend to rules trying to find out when they would finally resign and kick her out. They never did though, because her father had paid for their new gym. She had stumbled up the stairs already feeling a bit sick, accompanied by a young teacher who had found her wandering the school yards in a drunk stupor. The young woman had put Miss Parker to bed and forced two aspirins down her throat, then had put a large bottle of water next to her bed. Now Miss Parker knew that this woman had helped to take the edge of her impending hangover away and now -years later- she was very grateful for that.

Now she did the same thing to the drunk Pretender, pulling his shoes off first, then tucking him in. She went to the bathroom to get some painkillers from the cabinet and fetched some bottled water from downstairs. For good measure she put the hideous yellow bucket she had found in the kitchen next to his bed.

Jarod looked at her from half-closed eyes as she went across the room to shut the blinds and smiled dreamily at her. Once again she felt touched and needed to remind herself of the fact that he was even beyond drunk.

"I'm a house of cards in a hurricane," he told her and she started to grin with amusement when he added: "You drive me crazy, drive me wild."

"Honey, you are going to be so embarrassed in the morning- if you can remember any of this at all."

He just patted her hand and then kissed it very softly. She hadn't thought him capable of this kind of endearment in his intoxicated state, but he was. He ran his fingertips across the back of her hand and smiled at her.

"I love you."

* * *

When Jarod awoke the next morning, his head literally felt twice its size. At least he couldn't imagine his head to hurt as much if it was its normal size. The splitting headache became worse when he sat up and his mouth felt dry and sticky. He reached for the bottle of water on his night stand and found the cap already unscrewed. Gulping half of it down at once, he immediately felt better if not by much.

He found more painkillers next to where the bottle had been standing and popped them into his mouth.

"Awake, sleeping beauty?"

He looked up and found Miss Parker looking even more cat-like than usual in a black long- sleeved dress sitting on the armchair across the room. When she stood up he found that the dress reached down to her knees and was made from cashmere which he knew was very soft. He was longing to touch it, then admonished himself silently.

"Slept well?" She came over and picked up a tray he hadn't noticed before.

"You need to eat." She put down the toast and butter next to him on the bed and sat down on it.

He looked at the food and his stomach churned. Although he was hungry, he felt sick at the thought of swallowing anything that wasn't liquid.

Miss Parker still looked amused but also a little concerned, which made his heart leap beside himself.

"Thank you," he murmured in a raspy and throaty voice.

"Do you remember last night?" she asked and there was a weird twinkle in her eyes.

He thought back to his opening the second bottle after her hurried departure, to the song on MTV, his singing -how embarrassing!- and to her unexpected return. Then he remembered her dragging him towards the stairs after which there was only blackness.

"I don't... did you get me here?"

She smiled somewhat disappointed. "Yes."

"I'm sorry," he said. "For getting into that state and have you put up with it."

He only noticed how old-fashioned he sounded after he had already said it, but she smiled.

"It's okay. We've all been drunk before."

She certainly had.

"You came back!" he now said, eating a piece of toast slowly. The first bite almost made him cough but he began to feel better soon.

"I did," she said.

"Where were you?"

She sighed and shrugged. "I hailed a taxi and was about to tell the driver to get me to the airport, but then I changed my mind and went to see Amanda."

Miss Parker had walked into the little girls room after having a brief exchange with an understanding Angela. She had once again apologized for keeping her in the dark about the true nature of her visit and had asked to be allowed to see the girl. Angela seemed to trust her senses which apparently told her that Miss Parker meant no harm, no matter who she really was. So Miss Parker had gone upstairs and sat down by the little girl's bed. She had stroked her dark hair and kissed her forehead. Amanda had opened her eyes and looked at her, then a smile had come over her sleepy face and she had grabbed Parker's hand and opened her mouth to speak for the very first time since the night her mother had died.

It had probably been due to the gloomy light and Parker's resemblance to Stella, but Amanda had said only one word that was carried by relief and a sort of love that Parker had never heard in a word used to address her: "Mommy."

Then Amanda had fallen back asleep. She probably wouldn't remember it in the morning, but she had seen in Parker her dead mother.

Parker had been sitting by the bed, holding on to the small hand inside hers and had wondered what it would be like if Amanda was really her daughter, if she had a daughter at all. Somebody who would feel the unconditional love for her that she had just heard in Amanda's voice.

She had for the first time in years allowed the ice around her heart to melt down enough to acknowledge that she, too, needed somebody, that she had isolated herself in order to be independent, to avoid being hurt. And while doing that, she had now realized, she had also avoided being loved.

And she wanted so badly to be loved.

So she had come back and had thought she had been rewarded with that love when Jarod had spoken these three words to her. And although she knew that he had been drunk when he had told her, she had slept soundly through the night and had woken rested and not as mean-tempered as usual, which hadn't happened for a long time. She had also not had nightmares, which hadn't happened for an even longer time.

She didn't tell Jarod any of this, but simply said: "I came back because of Amanda. I don't need any of your speeches and I suggest you have a shower now."

"Aye, Ma'am," Jarod answered in a military voice, then in a softer tone: "I'm glad you're back."

**... to be continued ...**

I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it! :-)


	14. Fourteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**14**

Angela handed Jarod a cup of coffee and shook her head like a forbearing mother.

"You look like you had a rough night."

He shrugged. "You could say that."

"Is it possible that your state is related to Miss Parker's turning up here last night?"

Jarod looked to the far side of the room where Miss Parker sat on the floor next to Amanda and read a book to her. She had one arm around the girl's shoulder and was holding the book with the other hand. When it was time to turn the pages Amanda would look up at Miss Parker for approval and then turn to the next page.

When Jarod didn't reply, Angela sipped her own coffee to give him time to craft an appropriate answer and, much more important, manage to take his eyes off his guest. It was pretty obvious that he was in love with her or, for they hadn't met too long ago, at least had a major crush on her.

Miss Parker's feelings were far more difficult to interpret. She held back largely and always seemed a little cold and withdrawn except when she was with Amanda.

Jarod now turned back to Angela and saw the twinkle in her eyes, although she made a belated attempt to hide it.

"You know it, don't you?"

She couldn't help but smile, but still pretended to have no idea what he was talking about: "Know what, Jarod?"

He smiled back, very well aware of the fact that she was trying to make him say it out loud.

"That I'm completely in love with her."

"It's not easy to ignore it."

Jarod blanched slightly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to the old and experienced like me. You know you should really tell her."

He shook his head. "She'll go back home to her job and that will be that."

A sad look had come over Angela's face. "If you love her, you should really tell her. Maybe she'll stay."

Jarod was an intuitive person himself and consequently aware of the sadness that had suddenly come over her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and gave a mirthless laugh. "I am. It's been a while but..." She looked up at the gentle man who seemed the exact counterpoint to the sharp woman who sat only meters away from them, barely out of earshot if they lowered their voices like they did now.

He was such a trusting person and her instincts had never betrayed her. And what was so wrong about telling him something so very personal?

"A while ago I had a major fight with my aunt. Our mothers were very close and so I was even named after her. We got even more close after my mother's death but then one day we got into an argument and I left. I never called her and when one evening she called me, I put her on voice-mail. The next morning Marcus came over to tell me she'd had a stroke that night. I listened to my voice-mail and there she was, telling me simply that she loved me. I guess she knew already that she had to die and I... I wished I had told her that I loved her, too."

She noticed that she had begun to ramble slightly towards the end and shrugged apologetically.

"So when I see someone who is in love, I tell them..." she pressed her hand against her mouth, took a deep breath and accepted Jarod's comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You get the picture," she spoke from gritted teeth. "My aunt always sat in the rose garden by the hospital in her later years. The least I could do was fund a sign that would serve as a memento for her."

Jarod put one arm around Angela's shoulder and pulled the smaller woman towards her.

"I think you're right, Angela. But I really can't tell Miss Parker. I would only hurt her."

* * *

"Ah. Aren't we missing something?"

Sydney looked up at a smug Lyle who had nonchalantly placed his hand on the door frame. Broots who had been engrossed in some IT problem turned around, terrified by the silkiness of his voice. Sydney felt a pang of sympathy for the little man. If Broots was afraid of Miss Parker, Lyle evoked an even worse sort of terror inside him.

"What should we be missing?" he asked, pointedly. Sydney wasn't afraid of Miss Parker's brother at all. He just saw how messed-up his mind was and felt somewhat sorry for the lost soul teasing mean Lyle had turned out to be.

"Ah," Lyle exclaimed. "And there I went assuming that the infamous trio should consist of three people."

"Semantics, Lyle," Sydney said, barely looking up from his file. Inside he was boiling with rage already. Finally Miss Parker seemed to have taken the vacation he had been trying to talk her into for the last two years and now her brother came creeping about to ruin even that for her.

"Well, where is my cute little sister?" Lyle said in a cheerful tone that made him sound like an aspiring Shakespearean actor.

"On vacation," Sydney answered, barely able to prevent himself from speaking through gritted teeth.

"Vacation?" Lyle managed to sound surprised although he couldn't be. The Centre's radar functioned very well so that everybody knew everybody's whereabouts. Lyle probably even knew Miss Parker's room-number in whatever hotel she was staying.

"I can just see her in some fancy spa," Lyle said with a joyful glee in his eyes. "Facials, massages, the hot-tub..."

He directed his predatory gaze at Broots, smiling. "Can't you?"

Broots was trembling with fear and Sydney was so angry that he stood up forcefully and walked over to where Lyle was standing behind Broots.

"Mr. Lyle we are very busy indeed. Would you mind leaving us to our tasks?"

Lyle turned around. "You have no idea where she is, have you?"

Sydney sighed. "She deserves some privacy I suppose. Do you know where she is?"

Lyle hesitated before he gave a dismissive shrug and Sydney knew. Lyle didn't know either. While he watched the intimidating man's retreating back, a feeling of joy came over him. The Centre obviously had no idea where Miss Parker spent her undefined period of vacation. He grinned to himself, elated at the prospect of the Centre's officials scrambling about trying to find out about Miss Parker's whereabouts while she was somewhere, sipping a cocktail and enjoying herself.

* * *

Marcus Jones entered the on-call-room and sank into the solitary chair that was the only piece of furniture besides the ever uncomfortable bed that was supposed to keep the doctors from sleeping too soundly and through a possible alert.

He stretched his tired legs and arms and gazed at the clock. Ten past six. His shift would end at eight and if he was lucky, his patients would all make it through the early morning hours without any emergencies.

He felt drained by the night's events: One patient had gone into cardiac-arrest and it had taken all out of him to save his life while another patient had died because of internal bleeding that could not have been prevented. Sometimes matters of life and death were simply down to luck and that was something he had never been willing to accept.

His thoughts wandered back to Miss Parker and her holding Amanda in her arms. In his mind, her hard face was blurring so that it resembled Mary's soft features more clearly. Miss Parker was also thinner than Mary, but towards the end of her life, Mary had also lost a few pounds.

His heart contracted. How could he dare find another woman attractive? And a suspicious one like Miss Parker? It hadn't been easy to trace her story, but it seemed to be the truth. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

How did he get into this? He had resolved to keep away from this Miss Parker and just let her be, but it seemed that he simply couldn't get her off his mind.

He wondered whether his attraction was mainly sexual since he hadn't been with a woman for a long time, or whether it was the fact that she had so many opposites about her. It felt as if her personality was a construction of paradoxes. Feelings features characteristics that seemed impossible combined in one person.

She had the air of independence, while the looks she had given that Jarod guy had been filed with need. Her eyes were cold but her touch was so warm. She seemed to hate to be touched but she held Amanda so close.

He could have gone on forever- Marcus had always been drawn to complicated women. A fact that hadn't made his life very easy in regard to relationships. They had all failed quickly because the women had turned out to be too complicated for any man to handle.

And then there had been Mary. Mary- more out of reach than any of her predecessors. He buried his face in his hands while tiredness crept up inside him.

He needed to talk to Angela about this. Angela who -like his mother used to have- always had an open ear to his problems and gave more comfort than anyone else could.

He thought of little Amanda and felt the familiar feeling in his chest. Things just couldn't have gone more wrong. He ought to make it right this time, but he just couldn't summon up the strength.

* * *

Jarod walked a few steps behind Miss Parker and Amanda while they strolled through the courtyard. The rain had stopped for a moment and the sound of the water dripping from branches and leaves enveloped them in a somewhat peaceful way.

Amanda had become even more silent and withdrawn since her abduction. The police had come and had failed to get even a whisper out of her although they had called some highly decorated child therapist. There was nothing they could have done and even searching the house hadn't given them a clue about what had happened.

The blood on the attic-floor had not been Amanda's, but since they didn't have anything to match it with, the recovered sample had been stored in the lab for possible future comparisons although everybody seemed sure that it would never come to it.

Amanda's abduction remained a mystery- just like the girl herself.

She looked unbelievably pale even next to Miss Parker. Her little hand was safe inside Parker's and she looked up at the woman every now and then, seeking reassurance. Miss Parker had never struck Jarod as a fit guardian to a little child and when he had come up with the idea that she should help Amanda, he had anticipated far more trouble than had actually come.

Miss Parker looked almost peaceful and when he saw her in those moments, he couldn't believe that she was the same life-hazard that usually waved her gun at him and yelled insults.

He still felt hung-over and the feeling of vertigo was accompanied by a major headache that neither coffee nor painkillers could completely chase away. If Miss Parker felt like this more often, he would not tease her that much in future since this state probably accounted for her being so irritable at times.

He was happy walking behind them now, left to his own thoughts.

The feeling of not being able to remember a part of the last evening made him uneasy. Who knew what he had told Miss Parker? There were few things she didn't know about him anyway, but he still wondered why she seemed so distracted around him.

He remembered her coming in, his falling of the couch and the trace of amusement in her voice when she had commanded him upstairs.

She had obviously taken care of him because of the water and the painkillers on his night stand and she had come in to watch him sleep and bring him breakfast in the morning.

The warm feeling that spread through his stomach at that notion was as enjoyable as it was unwelcome.

Deep in his thoughts, he hadn't realized that Parker and Amanda had slowed down when they had approached on of the barns that was home to a dozen of bunnies for the children. They hopped around cheerfully inside, enjoying the lot of space they had here.

Miss Parker reached out for one of them and held the little brown specimen in her arms. Amanda was obviously mesmerized by the furry little being, as every child would be, and petted its coat in wonder.

Jarod watched as they sat down on the bench and Miss Parker lifted the bunny into Amanda's arms. The child looked up at her and Miss Parker smiled reassuringly.

She watched over the child for a while, then got up and pulled Jarod out of earshot.

"Still hung-over?" she asked teasingly, but more at ease than he had seen her all morning.

"Just a little queasy," Jarod lied but he could see that she looked through him. For once she was polite enough not to rub it in his face.

"Good," she answered instead. "She seems to like bunnies."

Amanda looked up at them and Miss Parker gave a nod, so that she turned back to the animal.

"Indeed," Jarod confirmed. "You did, too."

She smiled again, probably setting a breathtaking new record for herself. "I still do. Otherwise I wouldn't burden myself with all the trouble trying to find someone to feed Dr. Lecter when I'm away."

Jarod looked puzzled. "Who is Dr. Lecter?"

"The rabbit you gave me for Christmas. Remember? Or did you give rabbits to all of your girls and can't remember?"

Jarod grinned. "You still have him and you named him after a cannibalistic fictional psychiatrist."

"Aren't you a stunning little genius?" Miss Parker smirked.

"I thought you gave him away."

"You don't give presents away again," she said.

Jarod felt somewhat elated at the though of Miss Parker actually holding on to something he had given her.

"Who's taking care of Dr. Lecter right now?" he asked.

Miss Parker pulled a face. "My neighbor. I can assure you she is a real pain in the ass, but I have to be friendly so she will do the rabbit- sitting."

"Friendly?" Jarod let the word hang in the air between them. Miss Parker's idea of being friendly didn't exactly fit the bill usually. She ignored his comment and looked at Amanda again who was still engrossed in her time with the rabbit.

"About last night..." Jarod began. "I... I still owe you an answer."

"An answer for what?" Miss Parker replied defiantly and he could see she was tensing so he touched her shoulder lightly as he had taken up doing... when?

"It is okay. I'd just like to apologize. I was somewhat giving you a hard time. When you asked why we were constantly bickering... I... I guess I just don't really know to deal with you differently when I..."

His words were running away with him and he had to stop himself before he said something he could not take back. The alcohol was mainly out of his system but its aftereffects still seemed to influence him.

Although he was trying not to, some fearnaught part of him just went forward.

"And you were right. I..." Last chance to stop yourself! But he couldn't. It wanted out and Jarod knew that hormones were probably responsible for his demeanor.

"I _am_ attracted to you." Now that it was out he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"I even want you. I want you so much, Miss Parker."

While he'd had affairs before, he was still so inexperienced when it came to dealing with his feelings and desires that he could not prevent his hands from touching her. The touch was light and loving and not actually obtrusive, but he was still afraid she would feel that he was intruding on her space and withdraw.

True to her history of always doing the opposite of what one expected from her, Miss Parker responded to his touch and closed her eyes for a moment as if some weight had been lifted off her.

"It was about time..." she breathed in a sigh of relief and met Jarod's lips when they descended upon hers. It was her content sigh that attracted Amanda's attention and a split second later a scream cut into Jarod's happy moment and made the butterflies in his stomach crash. Miss Parker had approached the little girl before he actually knew what was happening and he followed rather sheepishly.

Amanda's eyes were wide open and she was trembling while the rabbit had jumped out of her lap, frightened.

"Get the rabbit, Jarod!" Miss Parker commanded while she was trying to calm the child and Jarod threw himself into a chase for the little animal that was much faster and adapt than he had expected.

While Miss Parker was holding on to Amanda, she watched Jarod fall over about three times while he was trying to grab the rabbit. It wasn't easy to tell who was more out of breath when he finally brought his furry prey back and dropped it back into the barn.

"What the hell?" Jarod gasped and Miss Parker couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him.

"Look at that, Amanda," she said and the little girl finally lifted up her head and surveyed Jarod who was sprayed with mud. His jeans were muddy on the knees and his hair was dripping.

Miss Parker winked at him over the top of Amanda's head and the little girl finally relaxed.

"I think we should go back and see to Jarod getting a shower, shouldn't we?"

Amanda nodded and got to her feet, still trembling a bit.

Damn- how could Miss Parker talk to a little girl and still manage to make her innocent words sound like an invitation directed at him, Jarod thought and grimly trudged back to the house after them.

* * *

When Jarod returned from his solitary shower, Miss Parker had made coffee. With her the task seemed almost too domestic. Of course she probably did that every morning, but for someone who only knew her in designer suits and high heels it seemed hard to imagine.

She handed him a steaming mug and sat down on the sofa. After their earlier brief but passionate kiss they were both a little bit taken-aback, somewhat unsure how to deal with each other.

They drank their coffee in silence, just watching each other over the edges of their cups.

After a while, Miss Parker broke the silence.

"Did you wonder, too, why she screamed when she saw us kissing?"

He shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't like me."

Parker shook her head. "I don't think that is it. She doesn't show much animation anyway, so I guess that could be related to the night her mother died. Just like her fear when the door slammed and it sounded like a gunshot to her."

Jarod nodded. He had been thinking along those lines, too.

"But why should a display of affection scare her? There's nothing brutal or possibly murderous about a kiss."

"Not if you don't know about the Centre relations anyway..." Miss Parker muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind... you're right on that count, but what if there was a third person in the room?"

"One Stella's ex-husband didn't shoot?" Jarod looked doubtful. "Does it make any sense not to kill a witness?"

Parker shrugged. "You're right. It doesn't."

There was silence for another moment during which Jarod's thoughts wandered back to their kiss and his confession. He hadn't exactly said that he loved her, for which he was very grateful, because admitting that you want somebody physically didn't necessarily imply that you want some sort of relationship. Still, he regretted his actions which complicated everything.

When he snapped out of his thoughts, Miss Parker had put her cup of coffee on the coffee table and looked at him intently.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing... it's just..."

Yeah- what? 'I kissed you and I wish I didn't because I would rather stay away from you?' Not good. If he actually said that, there was a lot of explaining to do. And she probably wouldn't understand what he meant.

Miss Parker looked at the anguish in Jarod's eyes and wondered whether it was somehow related to their kiss earlier. With trying to calm Amanda down, they hadn't had a lot of time to talk about it. Even on their ride back home Jarod had been rambling about his chasing the rabbit, so that they hadn't even touched the topic.

Miss Parker really couldn't help herself for she was longing to kiss him again. Without interruptions...

She usually got what she wanted with men and it irritated her that Jarod didn't do anything right now but just remained silent and looking stricken. That was just not how it usually went. While it put her off, it attracted her at the same time because she usually wasn't interest in things she could get just like that.

She decided that it was time to stop pondering the situation and just go forwards with it. She gently disengaged Jarod's hands from the coffee-mug and set it aside. He looked at her and if he didn't look exactly frightened, he hesitated before he closed in on her.

She felt his breath on her skin and couldn't get herself to wait any longer before she leaned forward to kiss him.

She felt like a teenager since she had not in recent time spent so much time just sitting there holding hands and kissing without speaking a word. Still after a while she broke the kiss, sort of breathless and then leaned forward to whisper in his ear: "Didn't you say you want me?"

* * *

When Miss Parker woke up, she smiled before she had even opened her eyes. She hadn't felt this good for ages... She stretched her arms and legs like a cat and then sat up, still wrapped in the sheets. The bed next to her was empty.

"Jarod?" she called out, but did not receive a response. She looked at the alarm-clock and found that it was seven o'clock in the morning. Maybe he was already in the kitchen making breakfast? She quickly shrugged into her robe and went downstairs barefoot.

Only a few minutes later she realized that the house was empty. She sat down at the table in the living-room and shook her head. It wasn't like Jarod to just go anywhere without telling her. What was wrong?

And how could anything be wrong after last night? It felt as if something that had been long destined to happen finally had, but was he thinking along the same lines?

No, Miss Parker decided. He definitely wasn't.

It was only now that she discovered the piece of paper on the table that displayed Jarod's handwriting telling her what she had been dreading to learn: "I'm running- please don't chase me this time. I hope you understand."

Devastated, Miss Parker buried her face in her hands. This could not be happening.

**...to be continued...**

_Care to tell me what you think? ;-)_**  
**


	15. Fifteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**15**

"You alright, Miss Parker?" She could hear Broots' concern over the phone and found herself smiling at it beside her rather desolate state of mind. The tech always managed to surprise her, although she didn't like to show it to him. How did his affections towards her survive her almost brutal treatment of his?

"I'm fine, Broots. No need to jump to conclusions just because I am feeling a little under the weather."

She wondered whether she had sounded as lame to him as she had sounded to herself, but he had the grace not to - or didn't have to courage to - inquire further as to why she sounded depressed even when she snapped at him.

"Lyle's dropped in on us, but he had no clue where you are, either," Broots said and although he sounded relaxed, she knew he must have been terrified during the visit. She made a mental note of reminding her brother of the fact, that she was the only one who was allowed to terrorize Broots- a privilege that the tech had learned to appreciate since besides all her cruelties on his behalf, Miss Parker was never out to really hurting him.

"Tell him I'll be away for a bit longer. I have already called my father and told him I had to take some more time off."

"What did he say?" she heard Sydney's calmly interested voice in the background.

"He accepted it grudgingly." Miss Parker couldn't prevent a note of pride from seeping into her voice. Besides all her courage she seldom really stood up to her father, but this time she had put her stiletto-heeled foot down. "I told him that I would be available on short notice if there was any kind of lead on Jarod and so he agreed that I might really be needing a bit of time to unwind."

"It's your first holiday in years," Sydney obviously deemed necessary to point out and Miss Parker rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you must feel extraordinarily pleased with yourself now that I have finally given in."

She closed the door behind her and headed for the car, unlocking the door with a quick pressing of the button. How nice of Jarod to leave the car- or how smart since she wouldn't want a furious Miss Parker to know what type of car he was driving even if he changed the number plates.

"Has Jarod called?" She forced her voice to sound as neutral as possible. Neither of her colleagues gave any -verbal- sign that she hadn't succeeded.

"No," Broots answered. "Nothing. I haven't found a lead and he hasn't sent anything either."

"Great," Miss Parker replied, unsure whether she actually felt what she said. On the one hand she was glad she didn't have to go back to throw herself into a search that would probably end at gunpoint when he would either find some way to make her feel stupid for thinking that they could really hit it off, or worse, make fun of her. On the other hand she was longing to have him at gunpoint- simply to receive some answers to the questions that had been plaguing her all day.

"Well, I'll call back later," she finally said and didn't leave much time for farewells, since she wasn't too sure anymore whether she actually wasn't missing Dr. Freud and her moron already.

Well, surely not. She didn't need Sydney's patronizing stare or Broots' goofiness around her just now.

She dropped the cell phone into the empty passenger's seat and started the engine.

After her discovery of Jarod's note, she had sat at the table for almost half an hour, staring silently at the floor. She hadn't believed what she'd read. Hadn't he been the one who had endlessly been hinting at the tension between them, the mutual attraction she had gone to lengths to deny? Hadn't he finally broken down her walls and taken her to bed?

Damn and now he had taken off when it was usually her part to run away from feelings!

Was that it? Was he trying to punish her for what she'd done in the past? Show her how it felt to be rejected after almost accomplishing anything you ever wanted?

Now where had that come from? Jarod surely didn't count as "anything she'd ever wanted". Did he?

She drove along the wet roads and dripping branches, the wipers unable to tame the masses of rain that went down on the windshield. She was truly sick of the rain.

Really, she should have just taken a flight back to Delaware and forget about the whole affair, but she hadn't been able to. Maybe it was the house that had brought out the other side of her. Or it had been Amanda or even kind and caring Angela whom she felt good being around. Maybe she just wasn't prepared to face the Centre yet after she had given in and slept with their labrat.

Last night had been wonderful. Miss Parker didn't normally use the adjective in any other context than mockery or sarcasm. But this time she meant it, even if she was glad it was only in her head.

Jarod was a good lover as he was good in almost anything he did and when she had begun to fall asleep, he had stayed awake, watching her and tracing his finger along her shoulder, then finally laying down close to her and nuzzling her neck lightly.

He had whispered about how he'd always thought her to be not only a beautiful woman, but _the_ beautiful woman. The first he'd ever really seen and the one that could have never been rivaled by any other. He had probably thought her to be asleep already, but she had listened to all of his words and felt loved.

Then she had drifted off and fallen asleep with the comfortable notion that she would in the morning wake up with his warm body still pressed to hers- which hadn't happened.

She snapped out of last night's memory and angrily hit the steering-wheel. How could he? How could he dare to destroy something so fragile?

She hadn't cried yet and was confident that she wouldn't. She had been let down too often for it to do little more to her than sting. Jarod was just another person who'd betrayed her and one she should have expected it from.

It was probably a cruel joke. Get her laid, then take off and laugh at her distress. _Very funny, Jarod,_ she thought. _Let's see whether what you said is true and I really wouldn't be able to shoot you if I had the chance... I might, the next time I see you. The Centre wouldn't mind a shot kneecap on their precious Pretender._ The idea lifted her spirits ever so slightly and she felt a little better when she briskly walked across the courtyard towards the children's home.

She would have liked to spite Jarod by just leaving Amanda to herself, but even next to all her desire to make Jarod believe that she was a cold hard bitch, she couldn't bear leaving the girl behind. Not after she'd called her Mommy.

She didn't know why that had meant so much to her since the little girl had obviously confused her in a sleepy stupor, but somehow it had strung a chord inside her. Maybe the long buried heritage of her own mother, whom everyone had always said had been destined to become a mother. Unlike her.

She greeted Angela in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, accepting the obligatory cup of coffee.

"Jarod has left?" Angela asked without preamble.

Parker looked up, surprised. "News travel fast."

"He called in this morning. Said he was needed on an urgent case in a different state and took his leave."

"Did he tell you when he'd return?"

Angela shook her head. "Possibly never. Hasn't he told you anything?"

Parker felt the sting again and took a large swallow of the coffee to cover it up.

"He wouldn't. Just left in a hurry."

Her voice had sounded bitter and Angela looked at her in a very understanding way.

"When have you first met him?"

Miss Parker drew her eyebrows together. "Last week, of course. When he collected me at the airport."

Angela smiled warmly and set her own cup of coffee back on the counter to arrange a bunch of flowers in a vase.

"You can't fool me, you know, Miss Parker. The story Jarod made up may have been far-fetched enough to be believed by Jenny and Marcus, but not me."

Miss Parker remained silent, unsure of what to say or how much to admit, when Angela went on, unmoved: "It was impossible for anyone with a bit of sense to miss the way you were with each other. You can't fall in love that deeply within a matter of days."

Parker spit her coffee all over the counter from which a sensible Angela, obviously used to that kind of reaction, had stepped away before.

She stared at Angela in horror while the older woman wiped the coffee from the counter top.

"I wasn't so sure about you, actually. When he looked at you, he looked as smitten as a character in a Jane Austen film adaption, but you were harder to read."

Miss Parker still hadn't gathered her wits, but felt as exposed as if she'd been caught making out with the gardener in her father's study (which had happened).

"Still judging from how obviously indifferent you act about his departure, I am pretty sure you're feeling the same."

"I hate people like you," Miss Parker finally growled. "I don't like to be read like an open book."

"Oh being capable of reading you probably is a rare gift," Angela laughed. "Now are you going to tell me when you have met?"

Miss Parker shook her head. "It's a long and complicated story and I am afraid some of the information is classified." She sounded like a character from the X-Files. Maybe a female Agent Mulder whom everyone shook their heads on.

Angela chuckled. "I understand."

Miss Parker hesitated for a moment, then finally asked. "You've seen right through our facade and you knew that we weren't whom we said we were... how come you still let us near Amanda and the other children?"

Angela smiled. "I knew you were good people and I can tell a good from a bad person. You are obviously doing Amanda good and you benefit from her company as well."

Miss Parker felt patronized but instead of firing one of her usual hurtful remarks, she just nodded.

"I am grateful that you allow me to spend time with her."

"You don't really strike me as the motherly type, so I take it she reminds you of yourself?"

Miss Parker lowered her head, anxious once again not to let the other woman see the pain in her eyes. "Maybe. I was dark-haired, too and had a thing for rabbits. Now if you'll excuse me- I promised Amanda that we would finish our book today."

Angela watched as Miss Parker walked out on the incredibly high heels she insisted on wearing even in an environment as casual as a children's home. She wasn't ready to open up yet, but she knew she would eventually. She felt in Miss Parker the same sort of pain that tormented Amanda and although she didn't know her story, she knew that there was a very loving heart behind that icy exterior. And although Miss Parker was not very pleasant in her demeanor, Angela found her amusing and clumsy in a certain way which made her likeable nonetheless to her in a way that she would have surely detested.

Angela leaned back, sipping her coffee, confident in the feeling that she could tell right from wrong and good from evil although, which she wasn't aware of, she was very wrong considering her feelings for another person.

* * *

Miss Parker finished the last sentence of the book and softly closed it. Amanda sat next to her on the bed, clutching her teddy bear in her arms. Her anxiety often let her appear to be much younger than she actually was.

"Did you like the story?" Miss Parker asked and Amanda nodded.

Miss Parker smiled at the girl, but the muscles necessary for it didn't seem to work properly. They weren't in much use anyway, but since the events of this morning, they had apparently turned to stone.

Amanda cocked her head and looked Miss Parker up and down. She felt herself being scrutinized and grew uneasy immediately. But then Amanda just put the stuffed animal down and approached Parker to put an arm around her back. She laid her head onto Miss Parker's shoulder and began to draw a comforting circle on her back.

Miss Parker felt unwanted tears welling up at the touch. She was the first person to caress her again after Jarod had. And before him, she sincerely couldn't remember. Broots had once offered shyly to give her a massage when she'd been in pain but she had threatened to bite his arm off if he did.

The girl made some sort of cooing noise which finally sent Miss Parker over the edge and made her cry for real this time. For the first time it was the girl who held her and not the other way around. Miss Parker felt somewhat foolish to cry in her protegee's presence, but it also felt good to have someone who was just there instead of trying to come up with empty words of comfort.

She thought of Jarod - damn him! - and of his words and touches last night. She thought of the stupid hopes and irrational expectations he had evoked in her and vowed to make him pay. What had been his motives anyway for making her lower her guard and then deliver the final blow to her sanity?

"Don't cry."

She hadn't heard Amanda's voice clearly before since she had never really talked. Her scream had been high-pitched and the other word she had heard from her had been whispered in sleep. Miss Parker was surprised at how deep the girl's voice was for her age. Not extraordinary but very gentle and comforting. Miss Parker hated anything high-pitched although she would have accepted it in her. She would have accepted almost anything she usually detested in Amanda, she realized. Had she actually grown attached to the kid?

The thought would have horrified her only last week, but now it seemed strangely appropriate.

"You're talking!" she gasped, still in tears and feeling embarrassed at herself.

Amanda nodded, still holding back on her words, and went on patting Parker's shoulder.

Miss Parker wiped away the many tears that had streamed down her face in only a moment of sobbing and carefully wrapped her arms around Amanda.

"Listen, you can talk to me, okay? I'll take care of you and I won't allow anyone to hurt you."

She felt Amanda nod against her chest and released a deep breath.

"I want to go away..." she heard the girl whisper hoarsely.

She let go of her for a moment to be able to look at her probably and lightly shook her head.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you take me to your house?" Amanda looked at her with large pleading eyes.

"Why?" Miss Parker asked. "Are you unhappy here?"

"I can't stay."

"Why? What's wrong?"

But the girl just shook her head and pressed her forefinger to her lips, then shook her head. "Take me with you."

After that revelation Amanda was as silent as she had been before and Miss Parker was unable to extract any other information from her.

"I'll see what I can do, okay?" Amanda nodded, back into the habit of communicating not by words but by gestures.

There were footsteps outside the door and Amanda looked frightened, pressing her face into Miss Parker's arm. She turned around and saw Marcus Jones in the doorway, looking as brooding and inapproachable as he had when she had seen him last.

On his heels was Jenny who was her usually cheerful but jittery self. She waved at Amanda, who only very slowly let her hard grasp on Miss Parker go.

"Can I talk to you in private?" Marcus asked and Miss Parker pressed a kiss to Amanda's forehead before she went after him. She had never shown gestures of such deep affection to the girl, but today for the first time it seemed appropriate.

"I'll come back to you and I promise I'll see about the thing," Miss Parker told Amanda, eager for the others not to catch her meaning.

Marcus looked almost nervous in her presence and Miss Parker wondered why.

"How are you, Miss Parker?" he asked politely. "You look a bit pale."

"You look a bit pale yourself, " she shot back, unsure as whether to act defensive or start flirting with him. He sure was still eyeing her with some interest that he tried to disguise in vain. A woman who had just been dumped by someone who had meant a lot to her and a good-looking man who had the hots for her were indeed a very bad mix.

And good-looking he was in a melancholic George-Clooneyish sort of way.

"I... I was wondering whether you... would still be interested in seeing me."

"Seeing you?"

She knew damn well where this was going but she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.

"Yes. As in... having dinner maybe?"

For a man as good-looking as him he was surprisingly shy and awkward when it came to asking her out. She didn't know whether to find it sweet, annoying or creepy. There was definitely something creepy about him, but - what the heck - she had her share of creepiness herself. Why blame others?

"I would like to," she replied although her heart contracted at the thought of sharing an evening with another man than the one she had spent last night with. Stupid of her- she had never been as annoyingly naive as that when it came to men. A woman couldn't have too many of them. They were a bit like puppies actually. All very cute but boring if you stuck to one for too long.

Her usual mantra sounded lame and stilted even to herself but she chose to ignore it for the sake of her sanity and tell him to come over tonight.

"Amanda's my first priority right now," she heard herself say instead. "I am not sure as to whether I'll have any free time at my disposal, but if I do, I'll call you."

Marcus didn't look satisfied, but not displeased either. Even when she actually wanted to fix a date with him but her mouth was simply betraying her and said something different, she was the master of soft refusal.

"Well, right. Call me anytime you want, okay?"

She smiled and bowed her head slightly, watching him walk away regretfully. Where had her blissful ignorance gone? When had she stopped repressing feelings and blocking inconvenient thoughts? She wondered whether Jarod's little game had seen some results at last. She wasn't the one she had been before, but she wasn't too sure she could deal with her new self. That woman was far too candid and genuine. Characteristics she eyed suspiciously. Especially in herself.

* * *

Amanda thought about Miss Parker. She was very beautiful with her long black hair and she was tall- very tall. Amanda's mother, who had seemed like the tallest woman in the world to her, seemed smaller in comparison. She wasn't sure how tall her mother had been. Things were blurring so quickly and whenever she was thinking back to her mother, it seemed like a picture from a television show with blood covering the lens of the camera. She shuddered. For weeks she had wanted to speak but just couldn't, but today it had worked again. She had told Miss Parker not to cry. She had been very sad and Amanda hadn't really understood why since she was sure it wasn't because of her.

Miss Parker was never really sad because of her. She was very positive instead. Like someone who was always there to encourage you to make things better. She was usually a very comforting person, like a strong guardian, but today she had been very sad.

Maybe it was because of Jarod. He had been with her often and now he was gone. Amanda missed him, too, but she thought that Miss Parker probably missed him more.

And then while she had finally been in control of her voice, she had decided to tell Miss Parker to get her away from this house, to take her home with her.

She was too afraid of her captor who roamed these rooms and was likely to turn unexpected. Amanda was unnerved and scared. This couldn't go on. She had been reminded of her promise and she would not break it for she was far too terrified to do it.

She would do as she'd been told, be a good little girl and hope that they'd leave her alone. Miss Parker was someone she could trust, someone she could look up to and someone she wanted to be like.

She grabbed her teddybear again and cuddled it to her chest. She needed to get out of here. Whatever it took.

**TBC**


	16. Sixteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**16**

Getting drunk seemed to become a habit. Maybe in his bid to change Miss Parker Jarod had actually changed a bit of himself. He had worked so hard to make her face her past and try to deal with it that he had begun feeling like a psychologist. And when he had finally managed to break down the walls around her, he had suddenly panicked and fled.

Even if he could get himself to go back, she most certainly wouldn't have him. People were at their most vulnerable when they had first admitted that they weren't as invincible as they pretended to be. And he, very well aware of that, had done to her exactly again what had led her to think that she had to make everyone believe that she was a bitch: Abandon her.

He watched the amber liquid swirl in the tumbler and took another sip of it, screwing up his face.

"Not used to Scotch, are you?" He turned to his right where a man had obviously been looking on while he had been pondering his dark thoughts.

"I am not really into alcohol," he replied monosyllabically.

The man smiled and waved for the barkeeper. "I used to be into alcohol alright. Almost cost me my damn life. I'll have a lemonade, Barney."

The barkeeper nodded appreciatively and handed him the drink. Jarod had to narrow his eyes in order to focus properly. The man next to him looked to be between fifty and fifty-five. He had a shock of silver hair and wore framed Harry Potter glasses. A tie was loosened around his neck and he had draped his suit-jacket over the back of his bar stool.

"My name is Parker. Parker Stevens," he introduced himself and offered Jarod his hand.

Jarod's manners were slightly affected by his state, so he just buried his face in his hand.

"Parker. Of course!" he exclaimed and left the man confused.

"Do we know each other?" he asked.

"No. It's just... forget it. Fate seems to really want to kick me in the groin now that it makes me meet a man named Parker at this point."

"Right..." Parker replied in a slightly bewildered tone. "So what is it?"

"What is what?"

Parker smiled warmly. "Well you get yourself drunk here and have one Scotch after another, staring into space as if something really bad had happened."

Jarod shrugged, hoping that he did not come across too impolitely. "Are you a psychologist or what?"

The man chuckled. "No, I'm a divorce lawyer. In daily life though, that comes pretty close to being a psychologist, I guess."

"Fair enough," Jarod murmured and eyed his empty glass. He raised his hand to order another, when Parker stopped him.

"I'll take care of that. Barney, my friend here is having a cup of coffee."

Jarod didn't object for he was glad someone was keeping him from making a complete fool of himself.

"I drank too much when my wife left me five years ago. I came here..." Parker gestured around the room. "... every evening for months and drank entirely too much. Thank god I had friends who helped figure out that I had a problem and put me back on track."

Jarod nodded understandingly. "So why are you still coming here?"

Parker shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just want to remind myself of what I was and what I am now. And besides that it's really late. I just left work and I needed some company."

Jarod consulted his watch. It was shortly past midnight. Oh man, so he had been sitting here for almost three hours, drinking and taking turns in staring into space and taking the cell-phone out of his pocket to call Miss Parker. So far he hadn't been able to work up the courage to actually dial her number.

"And why are you here of all places?" Parker asked, obviously comfortable with the long periods of silence that stretched between them at regular intervals.

"I've driven here from Portland," Jarod said. "Needed to get away."

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself.

"And why is that?" Parker asked. He had a way of asking the right questions without appearing the slightest bit obtrusive- a skill that probably derived from his occupation.

"I really screwed up," Jarod finally admitted. "I think I was trying to play god again and I hurt someone." He looked at Parker who looked back expectantly. Jarod noticed that he had very kind gray eyes.

"I don't think she'll ever talk to me again."

"A woman then..." Parker said and thanked Barney when he sat a cup of coffee down in front of Jarod. "What is she like?"

Jarod chuckled. "Irritable really. She sometimes drinks too much but I've seen her drunk only once. She's also the most impertinent person I have ever met and she has made an art of alienating people."

Parker silently ushered him to go on and Jarod realized that it felt good to describe Miss Parker to someone because it gave him an excuse to just talk about her in detail.

"She is... exciting." It was the only word he could come up with. "She surprises you all the time. Does things you would have never expected from her and throws tantrums in situations you would have considered completely trouble-free."

Parker smiled. "Sounds exciting all right."

"She's bold and... sexy."

"What does she look like?"

Jarod felt a little sheepish when he pulled a picture out of his wallet. If Miss Parker knew that he had been keeping her picture with him at all times for years, she would have probably laughed at him.

"I guess I shouldn't ask you why the photograph you carry around with you of the woman you love is one from a surveillance system."

Jarod smirked. "Please don't."

He had acquired it shortly after he'd left the Centre when he had been on a pretend. Sydney and Miss Parker had tracked him down and followed him into a hotel where they had been forced to wait in the foyer for the manager.

He had later gone through the surveillance camera's footage for reasons related to his pretend at the time and then had printed the picture.

Parker took the picture and looked at Miss Parker's relaxed face. She'd been on her feet all day long and although she had pretended to be irritable because of the wait, she'd actually been glad to be able to sit down for a while. The picture showed her with crossed legs, her hands folded on her bare knee, looking sidewards at Sydney.

Jarod had fallen in love with the picture right away, because it had showed in her one of her very rare peaceful moments.

"Well she is a real looker. Skirt's a little short though." Parker winked at Jarod, who chose not to elaborate on that subject. Parker handed the picture back and took another gulp of his lemonade.

"So what did you do to her?"

Jarod felt uncomfortable talking about his failure, but it was also relieving to talk about it to someone who might provide advice.

"We've known each other for a while but we haven't really been on good terms lately. Then I thought I should revive our old friendship to help her deal with some issues she had and... well I got weak and... you know."

Parker's eyes twinkled. "Slept with her? You're a grown man, you can say it."

"Yes..." Jarod confirmed, still a little shy about calling it by its name.

"But she surely wasn't too angry about you having sex with her, was she?"

"No. I don't even know what exactly she is feeling towards me... although I can imagine." Jarod shuddered. "I left when she was still asleep and wrote her a one line note."

"One line?" Parker looked disapproving. "And that's it? What did you write?"

"Just that she shouldn't follow me."

Parker groaned. "I am sorry to have to tell you this, buddy, but that was pretty lame."

Jarod shrugged and then nodded regretfully. As if he didn't know that already!

"You said you got weak. I presume you've been in love with her for a while and there is some reason that forbids a relationship... is she married?"

Jarod chuckled. The thought was indeed amusing. "No. That's not the problem. It's just that... well we're both damaged goods. Both our family histories are... well, very complicated to say the least. I was just..." he interrupted himself and started anew, correcting his earlier sentence: "I know that we wouldn't work out."

"And why is that?"

"I think we would just hurt each other. More importantly I would hurt her. She is so fragile behind that cold facade she wears and..."

"Oh man."

"What?" Jarod asked, irritated.

"May I ask you a very private question?"

"That's what you've been doing all along."

"Have you ever been in a real relationship?"

There was a momentary silence and although that had been enough of an answer, Jarod shook his head. Parker looked affirmative and just nodded and patted Jarod's leather-clad arm in a fatherly gesture.

"You know what your problem is? Let an old experienced coward tell you: You are afraid of having a relationship. And let me tell you something else: Sometimes relationships fail even if you do love each other a lot. But then at least you have the moments in which it did work out. Do you want to sacrifice them because of the vague chance that one day you two won't have each other anymore?"

Jarod was too stunned to speak. Maybe it was the Scotch, but Parker's words seemed to make a lot more sense than everything Jarod had told himself over the last 24 hours.

"I used to be much like you, Jarod. Although my explanations or rather subterfuges were much less elaborated. I just told myself the girls weren't good enough for me. Gloria, that's my wife gave me a speech much like the one I gave you."

Jarod snorted. "And she left you in the end."

A smile spread over Parker's face when he nodded. "Yes she did. But we had that talk _after_ our divorce. Right here where you and I are sitting right now."

"So?"

Parker slid his hand over the table and Jarod recognized a golden wedding band on his finger."We eloped to Las Vegas last spring. Got married again by an Elvis impersonator. Not very dignified but a hell of a lot of fun- I can assure you."

Jarod laughed for what seemed like the first time since forever.

"That's a great story!"

"Isn't it?" Parker laughed himself. "It does sound cheesy, but that's how life is. Much like your girl. Always does what you least expect."

Jarod took a deep breath. "So you think I made a mistake."

Parker paused, cocked his head and then said with some emphasis: "Yes."

* * *

Miss Parker was startled awake by the crying of a baby. At first she believed it to still belong to her fuzzy dream but when she opened her eyes, she was proved wrong.

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, but I can't go upstairs with him. He'd wake the other children."

Angela approached the couch Miss Parker had fallen asleep on and sat down next to her.

"Is it that late already?" Miss Parker asked, a little embarrassed while she rubbed her forehead to chase the drowsiness away.

"You've been asleep for nearly four hours," Angela observed. "You've been looking very tired all day. Haven't you been sleeping okay at night?"

_No, I miss Jarod. I can't seem to be able to sleep through a night without nightmares anymore if I don't know he's in the house with me._

"Not really," she replied, opting to keep her thoughts to herself. Her attention wandered back to the crying baby in Angela's arms.

"Now who's that? I didn't know you had children that young around here!"

"We don't." Angela replied, trying to calm the baby by means of softly rocking it in her arms. "Actually we only take on children from six years upwards. We're not normally equipped for babies, but he was brought here just half an hour ago. His mother is a teenage girl whose parents didn't know about her pregnancy until now. She wanted rid of him and so did the parents. They have a shortage of foster families at the moment so he has to stay here until they've found someone suitable to take care of him."

The baby was still crying and wouldn't seem to stop and as she usually did in the presence of children, Miss Parker began to feel uneasy. She admired Angela's sure movements and the way she cooed over the baby. Miss Parker didn't feel herself able to do so.

Had she really been wishing to become a mother herself just yesterday night? She laughed bitterly at that notion inside. If this was already too much of a challenge for her, she couldn't possibly have her own. And of course she had been a little confused yesterday- she didn't even want a kid. Never had.

"Has he got a name already?" she asked while she found herself peering over Angela's shoulder at the scarlet-faced infant.

"No. Do you have any suggestions?"

Angela looked up at Miss Parker who had a look of mild shock on her face.

"Umm... No, I don't think so."

She shifted uneasily, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Was your sweater expensive?" Angela asked and Miss Parker, surprised by the sudden change of topic, found herself looking down at her dark grey pullover.

"Well... not more expensive than anything else in my..."

"Good," Angela cut her off and handed the baby over to Miss Parker whose heart began to beat faster with something that could have been well described as panic.

"But... I... I can't...!" she tried to object, but Angela had already given the baby to her.

"I am sorry. I need to have a look at the kids. Jason has been trying to sneak out of bed lately, so there's a chance he's wandering around again- the brat."

Angela walked out into the hall and grinned to herself. She had made sure Jason would be far too exhausted from the day's walk outside to actually muster the energy to climb out of bed again, but she felt that Miss Parker needed to get kicked into discovering again that she, too, was a woman. She obviously was terrified of babies, but she needed to somehow get back to her female side. There were other ways to accomplish that, surely, but this opportunity that been dropped into her lap. So why not try it?

Angela felt a little evil leaving Miss Parker to herself in a situation that she would find extremely frightening, but she whistled to herself anyway when she climbed the stairs.

Miss Parker didn't dare move and just rolled her eyes from the left to the right side to see whether anyone was watching, then finally dared to look at the little boy.

His hands were waving in the air and his face was tear-streaked. Miss Parker cradled him as well as she could, surprised at his weight.

"Hey..." she started, more softly than she had attempted to speak in months. "Don't cry. You're fine now." She raised her eyebrows helplessly at what unrelated crap she was talking.

_Your parents didn't want you. I know how it feels, _she thought, but then decided against saying it, since it felt inappropriate even if the baby could not make sense of what she was saying, yet.

"They gave you to the least competent person around here", she continued in a sweet voice. "How dumb of these idiots." The baby's crying subsided and it opened its eyes to look at Miss Parker who felt rather foolish.

"Well that's it. You don't want to be responsible for my turning deaf, do you?"

The boy yawned and stopped moving his hands around. He lay still for a moment and the two of them looked at each other, equally curious.

* * *

Marcus had walked into the room after descending the stairs and found Miss Parker sitting on the sofa with a baby in her arms. The room around her was dimly lit and she was looking downwards at the child's face, her hair falling around hers.

He felt pain twitch at his insides when he compared the picture to another one he had seen and narrowed his eyes. It was obvious that she wouldn't have him. She had been very polite in refusing his invitation, so it had only later dawned on him that her words had actually been a refusal.

His eyebrows narrowed and he turned away to walk back into the house without addressing the woman. He should really forget about her. He was here for his own agenda and he would find out try as he might.

* * *

The baby had fallen asleep and Miss Parker watched it taking deep breaths in its sleep. She felt a little proud of herself for handling the situation so well, but also slightly irritated at her arms becoming tired from the weight.

She looked up when the floor near the door creaked and was extremely surprised to see Jarod standing in the doorway, looking at her. His hair was damp and his leather jacket hung over his arm, dripping. She felt a dozen different emotions at once, ranging from joy to fury. Still she didn't say a word when Jarod approached and slowly sat down next to her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she just nodded her head towards the sleeping infant to get him to be quiet. She was really surprised at his return since she had not expected to see him at all after that note. Especially not after only four days.

On the one hand she wanted to refuse to talk to him completely, on the other hand she wanted to yell at him, demanding an explanation.

They both sat in silence and Jarod reached out his hand which looked huge in comparison to the baby's face. He gently stroked the little boy's forehead.

Careful not to wake him, he leaned into Miss Parker and his lips almost brushed her cheek when he whispered into her ear: "I am so damn sorry. I was a stupid idiot."

She was glad that she didn't have to reply and just gave him a hateful stare, but relief began to seep through her. Still, the humiliation was present and she wasn't sure she would be able to deal with that.

"I missed you," he whispered, a little louder now, then looked down at the baby in her arms and touched her elbow lightly. "And now that I see you with a baby, I would..."

"Don't go there!" Miss Parker interrupted him so loudly and sharply that the baby woke with a start and started crying even louder than before. Miss Parker gave Jarod her dirtiest look and quickly handed the baby over to him.

"Don't you believe you can talk me into forgiving you!" she spat at him over the sound of wailing that filled the room. "I am not susceptible to that kind of crap. And you should know that I have just been holding the kid because there was no one else to do it, okay?"

Her voice had grown louder and angrier towards the end.

"Look, I'm so..."

"You said that already."

Miss Parker walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through the drawers to find the scotch Angela had hidden away. Jarod followed her with the baby in his arms. The angry voice had frightened it, but now that Miss Parker had sunk into a stubborn silence, the boy began to calm down.

"Surely you do not want to drink in front of a child, do you?" Jarod asked, while Miss Parker was already holding the bottle and glass in her hand.

"What? Do you think I'll set a bad example?" he spat back, sarcastically. "I doubt it."

"Please don't," Jarod asked her, but she just shook her head. "What was it you were thinking leaving me all alone and leaving that... that outrageously daft note behind?!"

"I..." Jarod began, but couldn't find the right words.

"You..." Miss Parker mocked him, setting the unopened Scotch bottle down on the counter.

"You're scaring the baby," Jarod said and Miss Parker rolled her eyes. "Life's scary enough. the earlier he gets used to it, the better."

Jarod sighed. "Okay, I really made a mistake, but stop pretending to be a bitch! I've seen you with this baby and..."

Miss Parker cut him off again, emphasizing the words: "Don't. Go. There!"

"Why?" he challenged her. "You are nice to children and animals, why can't you be nice to me, too?"

He had nearly expected one her usual fits of raving madness, but she just shook her head, laughing quietly: "You are so pathetic, Jarod. Go find yourself some girl who loves babies, puppies and daisies and leave me the hell alone. You can't shape me into something I am not!"

With those words she walked past him, stopped next to him and growled: "I would slap you now, if you weren't holding a child, but please don't view that as me becoming all soft and sappy."

Miss Parker stamped her foot as soon as she was out in the hall. Damn, she had promised Amanda to say goodnight before she went home, but she was far too angry to not scare the girl now. She'd be asleep already, anyway. She wanted nothing than a hot bath and her bed now. Jarod was back. Alright. But he couldn't expect her to be easy on him!

Miss Parker opened the front door and staggered a step back. The rain came down more forcefully than ever. Well, she could see her car from here, it wasn't far. She wouldn't get too wet, would she? Still she stood in the comfortable warmth of the house for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and stepped outside.

The cold rain pierced like needles at first and she could feel her body turn cold almost immediately. Not even the rage she was still feeling could warm her, although her face still felt hot.

She had almost reached her car when a hand grabbed her arm from behind. She swirled around and found herself faced with Jarod - sans the baby thankfully.

"What?" she snapped at him, contemplating whether she should hit him now. Oh how good it would feel to hear the thud of her hand meeting his cheek!

He hesitated for a second that served to both get Miss Parker more soaked and more angry.

"Okay, stand there and remain silent. I'm driving back to the house."

She turned back around to walk towards the car, but was caught once again by the arm. She was extremely annoyed when she looked at Jarod again.

"Let go," she said pointedly, dangerously.

"I don't want to change you. You're incredible just the way you are."

She looked at him for a long moment, then finally slapped him and it felt as good as she had expected. Maybe even better.

Jarod stared at her, mildly surprised for a moment, then broke into a grin.

"As I said. Incredible."

He approached and pulled her towards him, then swung them around so that her back was against the car door. They stood like that in the middle of the pouring rain, kissing each other hungrily. Only then Miss Parker drew back and laughed breathlessly. She then turned them around so that it was Jarod's back that was against the car.

"You go and hurt yourself for a bit."

He lurched forward and recaptured her lips, but then she suddenly went limp inside his arms and collapsed against his chest.

"Miss Parker? Miss Parker?"

Jarod was horrified when he found blood trickling down her temple from a gaping wound on the back of her head.

He cradled her in his arms and looked around them. There it was: Another small rock just like the ones before on the ground next to them.

Jarod stood paralyzed with shook, around him only the thundering noise of the rain.

**... to be continued ...**


	17. Seventeen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **Wow! Thanks for all those reviews! I am so glad you enjoy Rain City so much. :-D

**17**

_Catherine Parker's cheek was burning as she pushed the trolley through the aisles in the supermarket. Her little girl had wanted something- it was just that she couldn't remember what it had been. Her head hurt so much where her husband's fist had struck her. She could imagine that the bruise was already visible, but she didn't dare look, for it would make her feel even more uncomfortable with herself._

_She tugged at her dress self-consciously and tried to ignore the prying looks of the other shoppers as they passed her and probably wondered what the heck had happened to her face. Maybe they could even imagine and despised her as weak because she didn't dare leave her husband, didn't dare to press charges against him. But they didn't understand. They didn't understand where she lived, what she lived with and what catastrophe had just occurred._

_She couldn't believe it had happened. After all this time she had tried to forget all about it herself, had denied it time and again just to make herself believe it. And she had nearly succeeded._

_She absently picked up a package of cornflakes and looked at it with blind eyes, unable to decipher what brand it was. She didn't care anyway since she couldn't imagine ever eating anything again. It felt as if her throat was constricted and as if she would never be able to force anything down it again._

_Tears welled up in her eyes when a little old lady approached her, sympathy written all over her wrinkled face. She touched Catherine's arm, but she didn't seem to feel anything else than the numbing pain in her cheek. The gentleness of that touch was completely lost on her._

"_You should press charges, dear. There are ways..." the old lady stated quietly, anxious not to let anyone hear her._

"_You don't understand," Catherine heard herself say in an unfamiliar husky little voice. "I am notoriously clumsy. I bumped into... something."_

_She felt so stricken that she was unable to come up with an excuse or a believable story and a tear trickled down her cheek, when the woman's eyebrows came together in a worried frown._

"_Just be careful, darling," she said._

_She should have been careful years ago, she thought and brusquely turned away, anxious to flee the situation._

_Her head hurt so much. So much. She was really disorientated and had trouble focusing her eyes properly. The blow must have been harder than she remembered it. Just outside the supermarket, she stumbled, one bag dropping to the floor. Apples were rolling across the street and Catherine cried out in surprise when suddenly a hand grabbed her arm._

"_Catherine," a gentle voice said and when she looked up, she found herself enveloped in Sydney's kindness. "What happened to you?" he asked worriedly and she couldn't help but sink into his arms, sobbing violently. "My little girl," she cried. "My little girl!"_

_And her head hurt. It hurt so much._

* * *

Jarod was trembling with shock, but he was also used to making quick decisions so he scooped Miss Parker up in his arms before she could crumple to the floor. His heart was racing with worry but he forced himself to stay as calm as he could. He slipped once on the way to the house, cursing himself for his trembling arms and jelly legs.

She wasn't heavy, but she was tall so that he had trouble maneuvering them back into the hall because her long legs seemed to always be in the way.

The silence that enveloped them once he was inside came as a startling change to the loud noises of the rain outside and Jarod noticed his rattling breath for the first time. After that short moment of relative calm, all hell broke loose. The old staircase creaked under the hurried feet of Marcus and Angela as they came running towards Jarod.

"Oh my god! I saw her fall from the window upstairs!" Angela exclaimed and approached them with a horrified look on her face when she saw the blood trickling down Miss Parker's elegant white neck.

"Is she unconscious?" Marcus asked in a business-voice, gently shoving his cousin aside to gain access to Miss Parker who still remained absolutely motionless.

"She just fell and she's not been conscious at all since she was hit," Jarod rasped, desperate to wash his fear down with a glass water since his throat felt like sandpaper.

"You need to lay her down so I can have a look at her," Marcus commanded and Angela motioned for them to follow her when she lead the way towards her personal quarters.

"You can put her in my bedroom."

Angela's personal space consisted of a living room with large windows overlooking the garden and a smaller bedroom that was dominated by a queen-sized bed Jarod now gently lowered Miss Parker onto.

Her arms and legs were so limp that he felt like maneuvering a giant rag-doll and the furious red of the blood made for a stark contrast against the milky whiteness of her skin.

"Angela, go to my car and get my emergency-kit. It's in the trunk."

Angela accepted the keys and disappeared down the stairs again while Marcus pulled the blankets over Miss Parker's body to keep her warm despite he fact that her clothes were soaked. He then brushed her matted hair from her face and turned her head slightly. The hair on the back of her head stuck to her skull with the wetness of rain and blood.

"Go get me a wet cloth, Jarod." Marcus looked grim as he looked up at Jarod to emphasize his point. "Now!"

Quickly, Jarod hurried to the adjoining bathroom and frantically began to search the cupboard for the requested items. He had his share of medical knowledge himself, but with all the blood and Marcus in the way he wasn't able to tell how bad the wound was.

What if she would never wake up? What if she lost too much blood? What if she had severe brain damage? He finally got his hands on a cloth and filled a bowl with water, then hurried back, dripping water all over Angela's carpet in his frenzy.

Marcus accepted the cloth with a curt nod and began to clean the wound, examining it.

"This won't need stitches..." he murmured. "Looks like the rock only grazed her. She was damn lucky."

Why did he sound so grim? Jarod suddenly thought while relief flooded him at the same time. From Marcus' words he could conclude that she would be okay, but his tone of voice seemed to indicate the opposite. So grim...

"Angela keeps painkillers in a drawer in her office on the second floor. Can you please get some? Miss Parker will need them as she will surely have one hell of a headache when she wakes up."

Jarod nodded and resisted the urge to touch Miss Parker's arm once again just to reassure himself that her skin was still warm. With trembling legs and one last look at the unconscious woman on the bed he turned away and left.

* * *

Angela grabbed the emergency kit from Marcus' car's immaculately tidy trunk and hurried back towards the house that loomed over her in the falling dusk. It was a beautiful building but situations like these and the twilight always served to make it appear imposing and almost intimidating.

She grabbed the case harder and walked through the door. Why was this house so damn huge? She'd been gone for too long already and the fact that she had had to search the right key in the multitude of different keys on Marcus' key ring hadn't made it any easier. He should have really remembered to tell her which one it was!

She was out of breath and she could hear the rattling in her lungs that she owed to the years of chain-smoking that she had mercifully given up so many years ago. The stairs seemed steeper than usual and the landing too far away. She paused for breath. Why hadn't Marcus sent Jarod?

Finally she turned the corner of the corridor and tried to push through the door. It was closed and she swore, still in shock and anxious about Miss Parker's state, then turned the knob with some difficulty.

A high-pitched scream from the bedroom startled her and made her drop the case and make a dash for the door. The image that greeted her was disturbing.

Miss Parker lay on her back on the bed under the covers and her white pillow was stained with fresh blood that made Angela's hands shake violently. Next to her was Marcus, holding a second pillow, inches from Miss Parker's mouth and nose. Behind him stood Jenny who had been the source of the scream. Tears were spilling down her cheeks while she was pulling at the man's arm to no avail.

"Don't! Don't! She hasn't done anything to you!" Jenny sobbed, distress making her voice quiver.

Angela felt her eyes widen and shock paralyze her whole body. She wasn't able to move, wasn't even able to breathe properly. She suddenly felt incredibly sick. Stumbling backwards, her mouth gaped open and she tried to get the words out, but unable to. Her voice was gone and she the first tears running down her cheeks.

She fell back against the doorframe the same instant that Jarod burst in and hauled himself at Marcus, pushing poor Jenny aside in the process. It was a silent struggle that was only interrupted by Marcus trying to say something. Angela watched as the usually gentle Jarod hit her cousin's face with some force and wrestled the pillow out of his hands.

"I should have known it was you!" Jarod finally yelled. "I should have known all along! What has she done to you? Turned you down?"

Marcus' face was ghastly pale and Jenny's sobs filled the room. The blond girl hurried towards Angela and threw her arms around her.

"I was going to look for you!" she said. "And I found him like this!"

"You wanted to kill her, bastard!" Jarod slapped Marcus hard as he tried to say something and Angela saw blood trickle from her cousin's mouth.

The urge to cry was overwhelming but shock kept her from bursting into tears. The world seemed to be spinning and she was glad that Jenny had gently begun to stroke her forearm.

"Get her out of here!" Jarod said. "And call the police!"

* * *

It was scotch again but Jenny had insisted Angela didn't drink it straight but mixed with hot milk for which Angela was grateful since she would be drunk by now if she had gone through with her initial plan.

She had wrapped her hands around the hot cup and although the heat had burned her, had kept holding on. The pain helped her focus on the horrors that had become her reality. If not for Jenny's coming in, her very own cousin whom she would have trusted with her life, would have killed Miss Parker in cold blood. Suffocated her and passed her off as having died from her head-injuries. She winced, feeling very sick again.

How could she have been so wrong? How could she not have noticed how off he had been lately, how much Miss Parker must have reminded him of the love he'd lost? She closed her eyes but couldn't seem to keep them closed with all the adrenaline that was racing through her bloodstream. It felt as if she'd had far too much coffee or popped a handful of caffeine pills

She finally let go of the cup and felt the relief immediately. She hadn't noticed how bad the pain had been until it had suddenly lessened. Burying her head in her hands, for the first time in years she wished for a cigarette.

* * *

Jarod was still trembling with rage. Upon being pushed into the police car, Marcus had refused to talk without an attorney present and Jarod thought it was just as well. What could he have said to defend himself?

This time he had insisted on treating Miss Parker himself, had taken care of her wound and changed the blood-stained sheets of the bed and Miss Parker into dry pyjamas. Touching her naked skin had felt like an intrusion, not as good as it had last time when they had ripped each other's clothes off in an aroused frenzy. He had felt guilty even. Things between them hadn't been resolved by a simple kiss, as passionate as it might have been.

Her hand was safe between his and he raised it up to his lips to gently kiss it. What had he got her into again? Why was it, that when he tried to help her he always got her worse off? He turned her palm up and followed the red scar with his fingertips, caressing it as if that would make it go away, as if it would undo the pain he had inflicted on her along with the pain she had inflicted on herself with the knife that night.

Contrary to what Miss Parker thought, Jarod was no stranger to guilt. He had been a child when he had done simulations that had led to assassinations, to murder and other unspeakable crimes, but his brilliant mind had kept the memories alive.

Sometimes they hit him without him summoning them up. Simulations that felt so real that it felt as if he himself had killed those people. Sometimes he stared at his hands and imagined them full of blood. He came awake screaming at night because he had dreamed about how his simulations had been put into action.

Sometimes he could almost make himself believe that there was nothing to feel guilty about because he had not known what he was doing, what he was contributing to, what the Centre would use his results for. But then sometimes he wondered why he hadn't recognized evil when it had stared him in the eye.

In those times he used to call Sydney or torment Miss Parker a bit to have himself believe that he was actually doing something to avenge all those crimes he had made possible.

Compared to him, Miss Parker who embodied the whole concept of a bad person, looked as innocent as an angel. _She_ hadn't caused people's deaths or broken families. She was just chasing after him, doing a tiresome job that she hated. _She_ was just trying to cover up her insecurities by her rough exterior to avoid getting hurt again.

Her soft voice startled him out of his reminiscence.

"What kind of hangover is this?"

He gave an involuntary snort of hysterical laughter.

"It is none. You've been hit by a rock."

She rolled her eyes and for a moment he thought she was slipping back into unconsciousness, but then her eyes focused back on him.

"Who?" she asked weakly and he could see her disdain at her own weakness in her eyes.

"Marcus," Jarod growled.

"Marcus?" Miss Parker sounded as if she didn't quite believe it, then her eyes closed again. Those few words seemed to have exhausted her enough to go back to sleep and he was glad they didn't have to discuss the situation just now since it would have just sent him into another fit of rage. His fists still hurt from ramming them into Marcus' face.

"You won't go away again, will you?" she whispered, eyes closed, voice barely audible.

"You will never be alone," he promised and placed his cool hand onto her forehead. She sighed contently and very gently squeezed his hand back.

"Good."

* * *

Angela gently washed the blood from Miss Parker's temple with a wet cloth. She was always pale, but now her skin looked almost translucent. Angela dropped the cloth back into its bowl and the water slowly turned a light red.

Carefully, she ran her hand over Miss Parker's wet hair to smooth it back from her face and looked at the wound that Jarod had managed to take care of quite well even though he had been beside himself and his hands had been shaking violently.

It seemed that the rock had only grazed her head but if she hadn't turned her head towards Jarod that exact moment, she would have been hit full front and Angela didn't want to imagine what would have happened then.

She looked down at Miss Parker's motionless face and felt a flicker of a nagging feeling inside her. Why had Marcus thrown the rock at her? Had she been the target or had it been Jarod? But if it hadn't been her, why had he tried to suffocate her?

Jarod had come back for Miss Parker although he had hinted at running away from her when he had called Angela to say goodbye. She had seen them kissing in the rain from the window and they had looked as if they were made for each other. Was that the reason Marcus in what must be a clouded, deranged mind, had aimed to kill her?

Gently she stroked Miss Parker's arm and suddenly felt an almost motherly feeling for her. For some reason she felt that the unconscious woman in front of her needed nothing more than a mother. She wondered whether she'd grown up without one. Neither Jarod nor Miss Parker had ever hinted at it, but something in Miss Parker that was only detectable for a woman who had worked with orphans all her life, struck her.

She gently pressed her lips to Miss Parker's still cold forehead and then looked towards the door where Jarod had just appeared to reclaim the spot at Miss Parker's beside.

_

* * *

He stood in the doorway, shaking with a feeling so vibrant that it threatened to overwhelm him. His insides felt wrenched but at the same time a comforting, yet dangerous heat began to seep through his body at the sight of the woman and the child in her arms._

_Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and her smile seemed to sparkle while she was still unaware of his presence. Her finger carefully traced the baby's round cheek while she looked at it with such wonder in her eyes._

_He leaned against the doorframe, his strength almost leaving him. For a moment he wasn't sure he would be able to stay upright, but then the feeling of weakness passed and he loosened his grip._

_What was he to do? How was he to manage this?_

_She looked up at his muffled groan that didn't convey the half of the trouble he was feeling and smiled, a little less happily now._

"_Come and see," she beckoned him and he followed although he didn't want to. As usual she drew him towards her like a moth to a flame. And fire usually burned people._

_He sat down next to her on the couch as she had indicated and forced himself to look at the little girl's face. She was beautiful and there was already something of her mother in her eyes._

"_How does your husband feel about her?" he asked without preamble, then regretted his words immediately._

_She turned towards him with an intent stare. "He is never to know, do you understand?"_

_He did- although it felt like a knife carving though his body._

Marcus looked up as his attorney entered the room and rose to shake the man's hand.

**...to be continued...**


	18. Eighteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**18**

The headache that plagued Miss Parker upon waking up was unprecedented. No amount of vodka had ever sufficed to lead to a hangover quite as bad as this concussion. She felt slightly sick and quite dizzy when she made the grave mistake to try to sit up.

Only when she had fiercely blinked her eyes a few times, she noticed Jarod who was slumped on her bedside, head resting on his arms, eyes closed in deep sleep. Despite her desolate state, Miss Parker smiled to herself. He looked years younger resting like that and she couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and run her hand through his unruly hair.

He mirrored her movements from moments ago, shook his head, blinked his eyes and smiled groggily.

"Your neck must feel like hell," Miss Parker observed and Jarod craned said neck, then winced.

"You're right. It's not a position I should sleep in more often."

He looked around the room and his eyes found the alarm-clock on Angela's bedside table. It was just after six in the morning. Jarod stifled a yawn and Miss Parker reached out her hand for his to pull him towards her.

"It's still early. Maybe you should come and lie with me for a moment."

He obeyed and slipped under the covers with her. She slowly turned, grimacing at her headache and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"Don't run away on me again, will you?" she asked.

"I try not to," he grinned. "Or if I will, I hope Parker will find me again."

Miss Parker looked confused, but he didn't elaborate. That moment in the bar had been enlightening, but he rather had Miss Parker thinking that he hadn't needed someone else to tell him that he was better off going back.

"Is your neck very sore?" He liked the way her voice was raspy from sleep and nodded.

Miss Parker leaned forward and began to massage his neck with her hands. He felt his muscles relax almost immediately and a groan escaped his mouth when her lips followed her fingers and she gently began to kiss his neck.

"You should stop doing that," he finally announced because he couldn't imagine any scenario in which sex would help Miss Parker's concussion. And if she went on like this, he couldn't account for himself not jumping her.

She smiled and stopped, then kissed his lips softly. "You deserve every amount of torture."

He grinned. "You always know the right thing to say."

"Of course."

They fell silent and remained so for a moment while Miss Parker searched for a position in which she could comfortably rest her head on Jarod's chest, then gave up and returned to the pillow.

"That bad?" Jarod asked and she raised an eyebrow.

"It's okay. I am going to kick Marcus' ass for that as soon as I feel up to it again. I knew he was weird and I also thought he was hiding something, but I'd never..."

"Neither would I have."

Jarod watched her eyes flutter shut again and wondered how he would ever explain to her that Marcus had also been about to suffocate her with that same pillow she was now resting on. He stroked her cheek and she gave a content snort.

"Stop that," she said and the lack of conviction in her words couldn't have been more obvious, so he went on and watched her fall asleep.

* * *

"Good morning, lovebirds." Angela stood in the doorway, looking drained, but she still smiled.

Jarod sat up and helped Miss Parker do the same. The color of her face had improved just like the amount of wincing had lessened.

"Are you feeling better?" Angela asked and put a tray of food down on the bedside table. Miss Parker immediately looked sick again, but Jarod patted her shoulder encouragingly.

"Don't try to make us believe that you don't like toast and honey."

Miss Parker gave him a harassed look but began to chew on the piece of toast as if someone had just tried to force her to drink a bottle of vinegar.

Angela and Jarod exchanged a knowing look and Jarod slowly rose from the bed.

"I am going home to shower and get us some new clothes."

"You mean you're driving back to _my_ house."

"I am still your tenant, remember?"

She snorted but he could see the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Angela watched their exchange and the brief kiss Jarod placed on Miss Parker's forehead. At least her cousin's actions had brought about one good thing: These two seemed to be at ease with each other again.

Jarod walked out and Angela sat down on the chair next to the bed, watching Miss Parker. The other woman noticed her gaze on her and put the plate aside. What followed was completely unexpected: "How are you feeling?" Miss Parker asked, almost softly.

Angela smiled sadly.

"I've been feeling better. I just... I just still can't believe..." She interrupted herself. "Let's not talk about it now."

Miss Parker accepted her refusal and took a sip from the cup of tea Angela handed her.

"Have you found a name for that little boy, yet?"

"I am considering howler monkey since he's been crying all night."

Miss Parker smiled. "Sounds exhausting."

"I couldn't sleep anyway. Carrying him around took my mind off... things."

"I know other ways to take my mind off things, if you get my drift." Miss Parker winked and made a drinking gesture. Angela shrugged.

"Tried that. Been there, but alcohol never gets me drunk when I try to numb my senses."

"Hear hear." Miss Parker took another bite of the toast. "Thanks for the breakfast and for letting me spend the night."

"That was the least thing I could have done." Angela gave another sad smile.

Miss Parker hesitated. Giving comfort was none of her strong points. She was much better at intimidating and making people feel useless. Still she had the strange urge to say something nice. The problem was just, that she had no idea what to say.

"Look..." she paused. "Sometimes someone we've known all our live turns out to be an entirely different person."

Tears sprang to Angela's eyes and Miss Parker felt panic rise inside her. She was not good at giving words of comfort, but dealing with somebody who was crying was infinitely worse.

Angela seemed to sense her discomfort and stood up.

"Well... enjoy your breakfast and give me a shout if you need anything."

She bolted for the door and left a confused Miss Parker behind.

* * *

"I'll just drop by at the supermarket and get us some dinner. I am pretty sure you haven't stocked up on food while I was away."

Miss Parker gave Jarod a dark look that he ignored while he pulled into the parking-lot. They had been to the hospital where a few tests had been run on Miss Parker to make sure that she hadn't suffered anything worse than the concussion that she took great pleasure in complaining about. The doctors had declared her fit to go home if she rested and so Jarod was taking her back to her house.

When he had parked the car, he was surprised to see that Miss Parker reached for the handle of the passengers-door.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"I am coming with you. I don't want to waste away in the car while you are absorbed in the candy department. And I don't care for fast food, so I will have an eye on what you're buying."

Jarod rolled his eyes.

"You're not really stable on your legs, remember? It wasn't such pretty a sight when you swayed and nearly walked into that nurse at the hospital."

"Thanks for reminding me," Miss Parker growled. "Now help me out of the car."

Jarod sighed and walked around the car to help her to her feet.

"I don't really think this is a good idea, Miss Parker."

"We seldom agree on anything, Jarod," she said sweetly and he decided that being careful not to let her walk into someone or something would be less trouble than trying to convince her to stay behind. And on the upside he now had an excuse to let his arm slip around her waist and leave it there.

"You're some force to be reckoned with," he told her, whispering into her ear and enjoying the smell of her recently washed hair.

"You bet," she replied and bit his earlobe playfully, sending a shiver down his spine. How could he have ever considered staying away from her? Maybe they'd hurt each other, but they would probably hurt each other - and themselves - much more if they kept apart in the first place. He had no idea how to conduct that relationship when this pretend was over, but right now he didn't really care. This situation seemed almost ordinary: A couple shopping at a grocery store.

He kept his arm around her waist and she didn't object, which was a small miracle in itself.

They walked past the cornflakes and Miss Parker waited impatiently while he picked his favorite brand. When he had finally found what he was looking for, the mild annoyance in her eyes had given way to something between shock and grief.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he returned to her and touched her face with his palm.

"They're still selling these?" She had taken the box from him and stared at the red box that sported a little green cartoon dragon. Tears came to her eyes and Jarod's confusion grew. What was wrong with her? Had the blow to her head been worse than he'd thought?

"It's just..." she actually held on to his arm as if to steady herself. "My mom brought me these that day... from the supermarket you sent me the surveillance tape from. They changed the design a bit, but... I'll never forget. I hated them. It wasn't the brand I liked."

"I'm sorry..." Jarod said and was about to put them back when Miss Parker firmly put them into their trolley. "No. It's okay. I finally have to come to terms with what happened back then. Even if I'll never understand why it happened."

Jarod pulled her into him and gave her a soft squeeze.

"We can try to find out if you like."

"No..." she whispered. "I think some secrets better remain buried."

* * *

Broots turned around, startled by the sound of the telephone. His hands were shaking as if he'd been caught doing something forbidden although the only reason for his being in Miss Parker's office in her absence was a file she had requested research on during their earlier conversation on the phone.

The phone went on ringing and he crept nearer, unsure as to whether he was going to pick up the receiver or not. Finally annoyance with the tune - and curiosity - won.

He was about to say something upon picking up, but he was cut off immediately.

"Darling! You know damn well that I've been saving this spot for you for aaaaages! How can you dare not turn up? That's just not you!" The voice on the other end of the line sounded like a parody of a gay man, but somehow Broots knew that it was not.

"Um... I'm sorry. Miss Parker is not here. She has gone on holiday."

"Holiday!" The voice exclaimed. "I can't believe it!"

He never asked who was there, answering her office phone, but rambled on.

"I am booked for eternity! Can you imagine? And she's so into her hair! I can't believe she'd forget to cancel our appointment. That's just not her! She's always been so very... Wait. Who's there?"

Broots smiled despite himself. "My name is Broots. I'm a colleague."

The voice on the other end burst into laughter. "Broots! I feel like I know you already! Good to hear you. Well, you don't have any hair but if your daughter ever needs a haircut, send her round."

Broots swallowed. Miss Parker had obviously been discussing him with her hairdresser. Damn, this was awkward.

"Well..." he began.

"Now, Sweetie. Got to get going. Some lady wants her hair dyed orange. Whatever. Tell Miss P she needs to call me asap so I'll see whether I can squeeze her in."

The line went dead and Broots remained certain of two things: Firstly he would never send Debbie round to see Miss Parker's hairdresser or he would probably tell her a thousand embarrassing details about him and secondly: Miss Parker probably wasn't on holiday.

* * *

After dinner Miss Parker and Jarod were upstairs in the bedroom, next to each other on the bed. "How's your head?" Jarod asked, eager to divert his own attention from her hand on his stomach.

"Better," she replied and smiled up at him viciously. "Something the matter?"

She could see his obvious discomfort at the notion of her touching him like that and she enjoyed teasing him.

"Everything's fine," he replied, his voice a bit strained.

She felt the muscles of his stomach and sighed, aware of the fact that it didn't make things easier for him. He looked good with his ruffled hair and faint stubble on his chin and she longed to pull him on top of her, but she knew he wouldn't have it while she was still suffering from that damn concussion.

He sat up quickly and she remained in her very position, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Stop that!"

"What?" she asked innocently.

He just gave a look that conveyed that he knew perfectly well what kind of game she was playing.

"Revenge revenge," she sang, sitting up herself.

There was a moment of silence when he kissed her. When they broke apart, Miss Parker reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.

"This pretend is almost over, isn't it? Amanda is better and her captor has been found."

"We don't know whether the person who threw the stones is actually her kidnapper, too." Jarod objected.

"But it's very likely. The paper was taken from the children's home and Marcus had access to it."

Jarod nodded thoughtfully.

"So this mystery has been solved."

"And I need to go back to the Centre. I've been away for too long. They might be getting suspicious."

He looked at her, searching her eyes for some clue as to whether she would agree to stay with him, but she remained silent, then pulled him towards her and kissed him.

"We can do it, if we're careful," she whispered into his ear and traced the muscles of his back with her fingers. He was well aware of the double-meaning in her words and responded to it.

"You could get hurt if something goes wrong."

"I want you enough to be willing to take that risk."

Jarod began to kiss her neck and she moaned quietly, leaning back into the pillows and pulling him with her.

"And I won't get hurt. I am stronger that I look."

He laughed. "I know."

He paused in his movements and looked at her, prepared to be explicit this time: "If the Centre finds out that we're having a relationship..." he trailed off. God knew what they'd do.

"Nobody expects us to live in a house with a white fence and have two kids and a dog," Miss Parker replied. "You're a Pretender and I am smart. We'll manage somehow."

What if he wanted more than that? What if what he wanted was what they had here? A home together, doing trivial things like shopping and talking about things that concerned both of them, away from the looming presence of the Centre?

But it was too early for that, he knew. Even if she was in love with him, she needed time. Miss Parker wasn't someone to allow a man - even if it was Jarod - into her life so completely and readily at a time. She needed small steps before she could fully open up and he understood. Rushing things might destroy the fragile bond between them.

"Okay..." he finally murmured and was rewarded with a sparkling smile that was so out of character that he couldn't help but chuckle.

* * *

Edward Kerley had learned to ignore the guards around him, but when it came to his phone calls, he was very well aware of them and of every utterance he made.

"Hello," he said in a silky voice when the phone was picked up. "How is my daughter?"

"Still silent as a grave," the voice on the other end replied, always on the edge of humor.

"Very well. How about Jarod?" He smothered the hatred that threatened to seep into his voice. No need to alert the guard. "Is he still playing up?"

"I don't think so. Things are going well for us."

Edward smiled bitterly at those words: "Things are never going well for me as long as I'm in here, but at least they're not going well for them either."

The hand he did not need to hold the receiver grabbed the edge of the small plastic table he was sitting on.

"Make sure she remains as she is-" he emphasized. "Silent. If she doesn't tell them, they'll never know."

* * *

Marcus Jones put the phone down and looked at his attorney, Stephen Miles.

"Miss Parker doesn't talk to me and I don't have Jarod's number. You need to warn them, will you do that?"

The attorney nodded solemnly. "I'll do my very best."

* * *

Edward Kerley traced a scratch in the table's surface with his forefinger. "I bet now that he's behind bars - rightfully, I might add - Marcus will try to warn Jarod. Make sure he won't."

"Sure I will." The voice on the other end of the line suddenly sounded heavy, purring even, as if having been soaked with cigarette-smoke for years. He smiled. That was how he liked his women.

* * *

Stephen Miles walked across the parking-lot, fumbling with his cell-phone when suddenly someone cleared their throat. He looked up, startled by the disturbance and looked into a woman's face. A moment later he recognized her.

"Ah, you've come to inquire about your...." he began, but realized too late what she was holding in her hands. A moment later, everything went black.

* * *

Miss Parker walked ahead of Jarod on the way to Amanda's room and he could see a sort of energy in her, that she had always lacked. She seemed almost happy and he was glad to be the source of that happiness. She entered her protegee's room and crossed it to find the girl on the bed, her teddy bear cradled in her arms as usual.

"Amanda!" Miss Parker sat down next to the little girl who winced when touched. Jarod deemed it wiser to remain in the hallway and listened through the half-closed door.

"What's wrong?" Miss Parker asked softly, her hand stroking the girl's arm. Amanda didn't talk, just rocked backwards and forwards slightly.

"It's alright. I'm taking care of you. You can talk to me."

"They hurt you," Amanda said in a very little voice. "They'll hurt you again if I tell you."

Miss Parker opened her arms and Amanda snuggled into them, tears in her eyes.

"He can't hurt you anymore!" Miss Parker assured her. "He's gone to prison- Hasn't anyone told you?"

Amanda began to sob as she had never done before.

"No..." she whimpered. "No! It's not him. It's _her_!"

"Hot chocolate anybody?" Angela's voice called from downstairs. "I've just come home and I am _soaked_!"

**... to be continued ...**


	19. Nineteen

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**Author's Note: **I know it has been a long time. :-)

**19**

Angela? Jarod froze and leaned further into the door. One thing was for sure: He wouldn't move an inch just in case anyone decided to go for Amanda and Miss Parker just now.

"Is it Angela?" Miss Parker asked, her voice almost down to a whisper.

Amanda's eyes widened even more, the fear more evident than ever.

"No, no. Not Angela. It's Jennifer!" She started to sob and buried her head in Miss Parker's sleeve. She looked up at Jarod and he could see that she was just as surprised as he was. Cute goofy Jennifer? Why would she have a grudge on anyone? Let alone little Amanda?

"Why are you afraid of her? Why wouldn't she allow you to talk?" Miss Parker inquired carefully, but the girl's sobbing just increased.

"Can't... can't... tell you," she managed but dug her fingernails into Miss Parker's back. She winced but looked up at Jarod again.

"Believe me. You are safe with us," Miss Parker ensured her and patted her back. "I'll rip the little bitch to shreds."

Jarod didn't really approve of Miss Parker using dirty language around children, but this time she simply spoke aloud what he himself was thinking. He turned on his heel, resting in the knowledge that Amanda was indeed safe with Miss Parker.

Although he was sure Miss Parker wanted badly to be the one to confront Jenny, he decided that the girl had obviously been underestimated by them and Miss Parker wasn't really in the best of physical states right now. Taking on an opponent didn't feel like the best idea for her although he knew she would make him suffer later for forcing her to stay behind the front line.

He walked downstairs and found Angela in the kitchen, soaking wet as she had proclaimed earlier, but making coffee nonetheless. The lines around her face seemed to have increased since he'd last seen her. He was hoping to be able to tell her soon that Marcus wasn't really the one who had committed all these crimes, but finding out Jenny was guilty unfortunately didn't automatically make Marcus a good guy.

"Have you seen Jenny?"

"She's upstairs with the kids," Angela replied. "Would you like...?"

But Jarod had already made for the stairs.

When he arrived at Amanda's room, already out of breath, his worst fears turned out to have come true. Miss Parker was on the floor, a broken chair next to her motionless body. Dark strands of hair had fallen in her face and his heart broke at the look of that. There were streaks of blood across her cheek and he fell to his knees next to her still form, close to panic now. It was that moment when he realized what was the second element that made their relationship a hazard to both of them: Dangerous games weren't as risky when you only had yourself to worry about. If there was someone else, that other person was necessarily going to become a nuisance.

What was even worse was that to him Miss Parker wasn't just any person that was in danger because of his actions. Up until now he had discerned his strong physical attraction to her and the fact that he wanted to bury his face in her hair whenever he got a whiff of her scent. Now in fear for her well-being he noticed for the first time that it was actually more. They hadn't exchanged I love you's yet and he hadn't given a thought to it up until now. Now that he carefully turned her around in order to check for a heartbeat all he could think of what that he hadn't told her. What if it was too late?

Her pained groan seemed like the sweetest sound he'd ever heard and he gave in to the impulse to crush Miss Parker to his chest.

"Are you... insane?" her speech was clear although her voice carried all the pain she must be feeling.

"Oh god... I am so sorry!" he whispered and waited until she nodded her okay before he picked her body up and gently carried her to the bed where he set her down.

Miss Parker blinked, dazed, and touched her hand to her forehead, then stared at the red liquid covering her fingers. Her facial expression went from confused to alarmed in just one second and she had swung her legs over the side of the bed before Jarod could intervene.

"Amanda!"

"Parker, you need to stay here and get some rest."

"Rest?" she spat. "Stop talking nonsense and help me walk, ratboy!"

He didn't even have time to feel hurt that she had returned to her old ways and insults once that she was angry with him because she was already standing, one hand against the wall for support.

"Jenny that little bitch!" she groaned, hand to her forehead. "I just guess she underestimated the Parkers' notoriously hard head." She gave a short snort of laughter but the pain she was feeling was evident even in that.

Jarod couldn't help but blurt out what he had been dying to say since he had found her on the floor. "Oh god- I love you!"

She looked at him, half puzzled half annoyed. "You know, this is really not the moment! Come on!"

Jarod decided that she would only get herself in even more serious trouble if left on her own so he slung his arm around her waist and walked her to the door. Her walking improved after the first few steps and once they were out in the hallway she tried to free herself of his arm. Jarod shook his head forcefully and applied his arm more firmly.

"Let's do this on my terms at least this one time, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You should know that I am not the type of person who would leave the terms of anything so important to someone else."

He grinned despite all the fear he was feeling for Amanda. "I do know that, but you're hardly in the position to make any demands. I will not allow you to endanger yourself and your hard Parker head any further, are we clear?"

Her face darkened at first but was then lit up by a small smile. "I can't help but find you sexy when you're talking like that," she stated huskily.

"You're impossible," he told her while they walked towards the stairs as quickly as his arm around her waist would allow.

"Where do you think she went?" Parker asked.

"You were the one who has last seen her," he replied.

Parker snorted in annoyance. "Yeah but I was kinda hit over the head, you know?"

"I bet she is trying to get away. She hasn't crossed the main hallway, though. She must have gone down to one of the other exits."

"Her car is parked in front of the house," Miss Parker said. "No way anyone would miss that horrid little thing."

Jarod smirked. He had known that Miss Parker would not be impressed with Jenny's shrieking pink little car.

They hurried downstairs where Angela was already waiting, a puzzled look on her face.

"Oh my god, Miss Parker! What's happened to you?" she asked, alarmed, when she saw the woman's desolate state.

"Just an encounter with your sweet-faced employee," Miss Parker answered and finally managed to free herself of Jarod's arm. She would let him support her when nobody was around alright, but there was no need to be seen assisted by Jarod when anyone she knew was watching.

"Excuse me?" Angela's kind face was crossed by a look of horror, then she whirled around, smart enough not to ask any more questions. She opened the door with so much force that the doorknob slipped from her hands and wood crashed into stone.

"Jennifer!" she called with more fury in her voice than Miss Parker would have imagined the kind woman to possess.

The blond young woman turned around, her face illuminated by a flash of lightning that slashed through the dim light of another rainy day. What a picture, Miss Parker thought. So B-movie indeed. Courtesy of the second blow to her head she wasn't able to focus her gaze enough to actually be able to recognize the changes in the younger woman's face. Jarod was, though, and icy water seemed to suddenly be trickling down his back.

It wasn't only determination he could see in her face. It was more. It wasn't madness, though. He knew madness better than he would have liked and what he saw was closer to evil. Or maybe it just came of stronger because it was flickering from a face that was designed to be sweet. He took in her small sweet nose, those full lips whose smile had been replaced with a sneer and the heart-shaped face that was surrounded wavy blond hair.

Angela bolted the moment the flash of lightning died down. Jarod followed a split second later while Miss Parker had to admit that she was forced to cling to the stairs' post while a wave of dizziness had her in its grip.

Outside Jenny struggled with the door of the car, her heart filled with determination. It had felt good to swing that chair down on Miss Parker's head. Much, much better than when she had only thrown the stone. She had actually meant to have it graze Jarod just so he would stop nosing around, but having it hurt Miss Parker was just as well. Maybe better even. That bitch had waltzed in here, making fun of her and she had got Amanda to talk. How had she done that? Hadn't she, Jenny, scared the little girl into oblivion?

She looked down at the frightened child that was to horrified to even cry.

"Now I'll show you what happens when you don't obey me!" she hissed, loud enough to be heard by the approaching Angela. It had been so damn easy to fool that unbelievably gullible woman. Jenny had learned early in her life that kindness could usually be equaled with stupidity, so she was good at taking advantage of it.

Only now did she realize that she didn't have her car keys with her. What was she to do? The rain was coming down more forcefully than ever and she wouldn't manage to drag Amanda along with her on foot. Angela had almost reached her now and for the first time during the whole game she had been playing for months, Jenny was overwhelmed with panic. She felt Angela grab her wrist, she felt herself being pushed against the car firmly and was reminded of how Miss Parker had been in that very same position, but with a delicious Jarod on top of her. She felt hysterical laughter that she couldn't place bubble up inside of her.

Why was she always the one who got the beating instead of the hungry kisses? Maybe that had been why she had hurled the stone at them in the first place. Maybe it hadn't mattered whether they were alive or dead. Maybe she had just tried to suffocate Miss Parker with the pillow to make herself believe that she had been trying to get rid of her as a danger to her plan concerning Amanda. She hadn't noticed that her laughter had been replaced with a howl that sounded as if it was erupting from a hurt animal instead of coming from her, a sweet delicate blonde.

Angela was stronger than she looked and Jenny struggled in her firm grasp but couldn't free herself. A moment later Jarod was next to them, looking down at her with anger in his eyes.

He gently squeezed Angela's shoulder. The older woman was panting with the effort that it took from her to keep Jenny still. Before she knew it, Jarod had taken her place and nodded at her.

"I guess it's time to call the police, Angela."

She walked away from them, the rain soaking her, but she wasn't feeling the chill.

Jenny looked up at Jarod's face that was darkened with anger. The shadows were playing on his face, making it all the more handsome. She felt his hands pin her to the car and tried to imagine as hard as she could the darkness in his eyes to be desire. Hadn't it been just like that the last time?

"_Jennifer? What are you doing?"_

_She whirled around, her hands sweaty and her heart pounding with the shock she was feeling at being discovered. She didn't know where to hide her hands, where to put the pills she had just acquired. But what could she do anyway? He had surprised her in front of the hospital's open medicine cabinet, her hands all over its contents. How could he not know even if she denied it?_

"_Jennifer are you going to return that?"_

_He almost gently took the pills from her hands._

"_I should have known you were an addict as badly as you were shaking when you assisted me last week."_

"_Dr Kerley, please..." she began. "Don't tell anyone. I was going to stop taking those... I really was... I..."_

_He looked at her, his face dark. "I am forced to report this to the chief of medicine, Jennifer. We can't allow an addict among our nursing staff."_

_She started to shiver when she thought of that perspective. No job, no money, no pills. Back to the street where she'd come from._

"_Please, Dr Kerley!" She started to walk past him, but he grabbed her arms and brought her closer to the wall._

"_How could you do that, Jennifer? I read your file. You've come so far and now you ruin it all because of an old addiction flaring up?"_

_She sobbed, feeling her deprivation from the drugs. It had been too long since she'd swallowed that last pill and she knew she wouldn't be able to go any further without the next. "Let go of me!" It was the fury again. Whenever she'd gone too long without she started to become violent and she couldn't avoid it. There was no amount of willpower that could keep her down, only the pills served to calm her. She started to struggle, to try to kick him so he had to use the whole weight of his body to restrain her._

"_Please, Jennifer. This is not the way..." he trailed off, his face now close to hers and she could see the confusion in his eyes. She had to use that confusion, had to turn his anger into desire._

"_You don't have to tell anyone..." she whispered, masking her rage with an inviting purr. Dr Kerley suddenly seemed unsure about what to do but she could see his gaze change. She lurched forward and crushed her lips to his, causing him to let go of her. Finally free, she ran for the door, but then paused and looked back at him. He was handsome, he was strong and he wanted her. Why go away now? Her hand on the doorknob, she turned the key instead. Her hand was still cramped around the container of pills and she slowly, seductively placed one in her mouth and then returned to the doctor and looked into his eyes that were filled with desire for her._

"Let me go..." she asked Jarod in the same tone of voice she had used on Edward Kerley back then. She slowly arched her back and tried to reach his lips with hers. "Let me go and you can have me..."

Her attempt at seduction of her captor was interrupted by a sarcastic jolt of laughter.

"Would you please refrain from that pathetic little attempt at freeing yourself?" Miss Parker snarled. She looked like the goddess of revenge with her wet hair and the semi-dried blood on her face.

"Do you ever die?" Jenny spat.

"Not courtesy of you, I suppose, you little twit," Miss Parker replied and crouched down next to little Amanda who was pressed against the side of the car, crying.

"Come here." The little girl clung to Miss Parker like a lifeline when she picked her up and leaned at the car for support.

"It's alright," Miss Parker whispered. "You're safe now. She can't hurt you anymore."

Lights began flashing a moment later when the police cruiser turned into the driveway.

* * *

"Why do people keep getting away with faking their deaths? Nobody really dies. Give him a second and Elvis is going to walk through the door," Miss Parker growled.

Jarod couldn't help but laugh. He felt a little as if he had had too much coffee. His whole body was buzzing with the energy that he usually associated with a finished pretend.

"Can't be that hard. Jenny seems to just have crashed her car after Dr. Kerley was arrested, then changed her last name and came back to work here. Damn risky actually."

"Stop pacing. It annoys me," Miss Parker interrupted, reaching out a hand for him to contradict her strict tone of voice. Jarod sighed and joined her on the couch. She still looked a mess, the blood now washed from her face, but her hair still only half-dried and ruffled. At least after she had put Amanda to sleep she had agreed to be wrapped in a blanket and sit down on the couch. Miss Parker leaned over to him and lifted her legs to half sit in his lap.

"I told you that little..." He cut her off. "You've sworn enough today, don't you think?"

She grinned. "Well I told you that girl was up to no good."

"Her cheerfulness just annoyed you."

Miss Parker shrugged, a little smile now on her face. The good thing about leading a life filled with as much horror as theirs were was that not much could shock you. Consequently they had quite quickly recovered from the shook of today's events.

"There's one more thing," she said, pulling him towards her. "I am sorry for snapping at you when you said you loved me today."

He grinned at the memory. "You were right. It really wasn't the right moment."

She smiled, then murmured almost incomprehensibly. "Love you, too."

"Excuse me?" he asked, teasing her.

Her head snapped up and she found his gaze again. "You heard very well what I said. You know how I am. I can't say this straight out or I have to throw up."

He chuckled, then pulled her close, ready to leave her alone on that topic.

"I still don't understand what she was here for though? Dr Kerley was already in jail. His trial was set and they didn't need Amanda's testimony to pin that murder on him. You took care of that. Why would Jenny want to shut Amanda up?" Miss Parker lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at Jarod quizzically.

"I don't know. We should ask him."

"So you don't think she was acting on her own accord?"

"She admitted to having an affair with him and when you look at her closely she seems to be quite the dependent personality. I don't believe she'd do it on her own."

* * *

Edward Kerley couldn't help but grit his teeth at the sight of Jarod who was the one who had doomed him to lead a life in captivity. His companion was a welcome sight, though. She looked good in her tight outfit and those lips were... he called himself to order. No need to lust after Jarod's girl even if she was the first woman he had seen in weeks.

She gave him a look that conveyed more disgust that he had been prepared for. Inside himself he sought regret but came up empty-handed.

Kerley had always had a strong sense of justice, at least when it came to himself. His thoughts went back to the day when that sense of justice had first led him to the path to the dark side which he had never left again...

"_It's just a little prick, baby. You'll be fine in a minute."_

"_Sure, daddy?" Amanda asked, wide-eyed._

"_Very sure. You're my daughter, remember? You're strong."_

_He could feel the bile rising in his throat at the memory of that conversation now that he sat here in his office, on his own, staring at the results from Amanda's blood test and the one he had ordered later. _

_The scientist that he was could usually not be convinced by a hunch alone, he needed proof. This time his conviction that there was foul play had lead him into the right direction. He glanced at Amanda's chart again. The blood test had been a routine examination that he had performed on her. Her normal doctor had been on maternity leave so he had decided to do it himself and had been faced with the results for the first time. Things were fine. They always were. Amanda was a strong little girl, a quality he had usually prided himself as coming from his genes. And maybe it did. Just not the way he had thought it had._

_She had the wrong blood type. She could not be his daughter._

_He had been in denial at first, had believed the lab technician to be a dumbass, to have got it wrong. Then he had run a DNA-test on them and found out that things were even worse than he'd first believed: He was clearly not her father, but he was also clearly related to her. Truth had struck him like lightning: Marcus._

_They had never got along well, half-brothers that they were, but things had gone from bad to worse when Marcus had first met Stella. They had developed some kind of friendship that Edward had only become aware of later when Marcus had slipped and called his wife Maria in his presence. He had then inquired with the then pregnant Stella who had confessed to him that she had been meeting with Marcus a few times but that they had fallen out somehow. When Edward had expressed his confusion at his half-brother calling his wife Maria, a look of regret had crossed her face that he only now understood. They had ended their affair when she had become pregnant. Had she known back then that Marcus was the father?_

_Edward had then laughed sarcastically at her simple explanation, but now it felt nauseatingly appropriate. She'd told him that Marcus had been calling her Maria for a movie they'd once watched together. Too bad that Edward's google search had turned up the little detail that said movie had featured a woman named Maria who had a daughter called Amanda._

_It was then that he had decided to kill Stella. _

"So you killed your ex-wife to avenge your ego?" Miss Parker asked, disgusted.

"I killed her because she betrayed me. In history betrayal was often sanctioned with death. It still is in some places, nowadays." His statement was accompanied by a gaze that seemed to cut through Miss Parker's skin.

"_It still is in some places..." _Like the Centre. If they found out about her relationship with Jarod, she wouldn't even have the privilege to rot away in the sublevels. They would kill her. And they wouldn't do it despite her being the chairman's daughter, but _because_ of that fact. She swallowed. Was that worth it?

She looked at Jarod with his kind face and then down at their hands that were joined below the table where Kerley couldn't see them. It was worth it. She would be careful and being with Jarod she was more alive than she had ever been when chasing him.

"So you had Jennifer fake her death and keep Amanda quiet. About what?"

"I was alright telling you about my killing my ex-wife, but you don't honestly think I will incriminate myself on that crime that stupid girl committed? I had nothing to do with it."

"Just like you had nothing to do with the killing of Marcus Jones' lawyer when he was sent to warn Angela and us?"

There was a glimmer behind Kerley's eyes, but it vanished quickly. "Of course not."

"Then I bet I can tell you what you did," Jarod said. Miss Parker saw a look of conviction in his face that told her that he had given a lot of thought to what he was going to say. And if a pretender gave a lot of thought to something it usually meant that he had simmed it.

"After you found out that Marcus was Amanda's father you went to your ex-wife's house and killed her in front of Amanda. You told them that you were punishing them both for the betrayal. Stella for committing it and Amanda for being the outcome. And then Stella was dead and you were going to turn on Amanda..."

_Edward's hands were full of blood, everything spattered with it. He turned away from his ex-wife's battered corpse and faced the trembling child. She wasn't even crying anymore. He had loved her as much as he was able to. He wasn't a person who could really love, but he had thought that that little girl was the one person he could love at least a bit._

_Now she stood there, her teddy bear in her arms and looked up at him with frightened eyes. He lifted the knife but he couldn't do it._

"And you hated yourself for being unable to kill Amanda, but she knew that Marcus was her father. She knew that her mother loved another man and didn't give into her feelings because she was too afraid that you would find out and harm them. So you asked Jenny to take care of the problem."

Edward Kerley motioned for the guard and smiled at Jarod when the handcuffs were applied. He stood up and was walked towards the door where he stopped one last time, then turned around and smirked at the couple on the other side of the glass: "You're one smart man, Jarod. Of course I didn't do it, but if I had... it would have exactly been like that."

And from those words Jarod and Miss Parker knew that the scenario Jarod had laid out was exactly what had happened.

* * *

For the first time since Miss Parker had arrived in Portland the sun was shining and turned the children's home into a warm and welcoming place. They were sitting outside on the lawn while the children were all around them, playing and laughing. They were unaware of the evil that Jenny had brought into the place and Angela preferred it to stay that way. She didn't want to frighten them now the danger was no longer looming over them.

She looked first at Amanda who was sitting on a bench next to the rabbit-shed, holding a brown specimen, Marcus sitting next to her. He was telling her something and she gave him a careful smile. When Marcus had been told about his being the little girl's father and about Edward's terrible plan, Jarod had been forced to hold him back so he wouldn't go straight to the jail and kill Edward. Instead he and Angela had been talking all night, weighing options and then had decided that Amanda should stay with Angela until she was ready and willing to live with her father. Things were going well, obviously.

Angela turned to speak to Jarod and Miss Parker but found that it wasn't a good moment. Grinning, she got up and crept away so she wouldn't disturb them.

Miss Parker had closed her eyes against the sun and enjoyed the warm light on her face. Her hand was still in Jarod's and whenever she surfaced from the happiness that seemed to intoxicate her, she hated herself and Jarod for just being so awfully.... in love. She wasn't used to it and it scared her more than she would have admitted. Love was weakness. That was what she had always been told and since she seemed to have lost her mind since she had given in to her feelings, she could understand what they meant.

"How's your head?" Jarod whispered into her ear and she opened her eyes to look at him.

"Blown," she said truthfully as she brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

He grinned and kissed her. They both knew that their time here was up. Amanda was safe and had started to build a relationship with her father and Angela had found new staff already.

Still sitting there in the sun and enjoying each other's company they couldn't imagine going back to their lives.

* * *

Miss Parker woke from a deep nightmare-free sleep and rose from the bed to make some coffee. Jarod was still fast asleep, snoring slightly so she padded to the door and walked downstairs carefully to be quiet and not wake him. He had stayed awake when she had already gone to bed to catch up on some things but he had obviously grown tired before he had finished it all, because his laptop was still on the table, switched off but still opened. The DSA-player stood next to it, accompanied by a closed red notebook.

Miss Parker couldn't resist but pick the notebook up. Was it about his next pretend? She opened it and frowned. It contained the same newspaper clippings that she had read before when Jarod had handed her the red notebook on Amanda and her mother. This couldn't be the same one though, since the other one was upstairs on her bedside table. She began to flip through it, encountering the familiar headlines.

When she got to the last page, though, she paled and stumbled backwards, holding on to a chair not to faint. It were two sheets of blood tests, one looking rather new, one old and yellowed. Her heart was pounding when she read the note Jarod had scribbled next to the newer one: _Kerley is not Amanda's father. But who is? Must be one of his family-members._

He had known about that all along? He had obviously not known that Marcus was Kerley's estranged half-brother. So he had kept that from her... but the older sheet of blood tests was still a mystery. She picked it up and skimmed it, then felt as if her head had been hit again.

The Centre logo was visible in one corner. It had faded with time but could still be recognized when looked at closely. Miss Parker raised an eyebrow to herself and read on. She couldn't really make sense of all the numbers and details that were type-written on the page but she recognized her name identified as subject 1 and another familiar one as subject 2. She frowned, then turned the page and her breath caught. Subject 2 was the father of subject 1 with a certainty of almost 99 per cent.

And subject number 2 was one Dr. Sydney Greene.

She ran her fingertips over the name, the data, the scientific truth. Her whole body went numb with the revelation and she suddenly seemed unable to stay standing. Trembling, she sank to one of the chairs and flipped another page. She had seen her father's signature so often accompanied by his abbreviation for "acknowledged" under her own reports that she recognized it right away. And here it was, too. Next to a date. A date she had seen very recently as a code on a surveillance tape from a super-market.

The image of her mother's beaten face came back to her. She saw Sydney's pained look that she sometimes wondered about when she caught him secretly looking at her. Sydney was her father and Mister Parker knew. Jarod knew. No. _He had known all along._

He had sent her the tape as a first clue, had her find out that Marcus was Amanda's father. He had played another game, rubbed something else in her face and he had betrayed her again by not telling her. Had he been going to tell her at all?

She felt the stabbing pain in her chest that had plagued her while Amanda had been kidnapped. It was stronger now that it had been before and became overwhelming before she knew it.

Sydney was her father and Jarod had not told her...

**...to be continued...**


	20. Twenty

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**20**

"The cooking sherry again?" Jarod consulted his watch. "At eight in the morning? Come on!"

Miss Parker simply rose from her kitchen chair and walked towards the counter to put some coffee on. He watched her methodically go about the task in a silence that foreboded major drama.

"Miss Parker?" he asked carefully while she inserted the filter into the machine, then added coffee powder. Were her hands trembling? He tried to make out whether they did, but couldn't see anything but steady movements. What was wrong with her?

She took some time before she slowly turned her head around, then let her whole body follow and leaned back against the counter, her hands at both sides of her body.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

If he hadn't known something was wrong before, now was the moment it became inevitable. Her emotions were concealed by a mask he had not yet seen before. It was an expression of utter calm that seemed to ooze falseness. Jarod was a little scared, in fact. If she was angry, she usually let it out immediately- maybe her only means to stay sane in the turmoil she called her life. There was no sign of anger there now, just expressionlessness. But Jarod knew her well enough to know that there was.

It first showed in her hand that suddenly grabbed the edge of the counter so violently, that he could see the knuckles whiten almost instantly. The same happened with the second hand a split second later. Like a horse rearing up there was a tremble that went through her upper body and sent her away from the counter with its force.

She now stood in front of him, still in his t-shirt, legs bare and hair messed up but at the same time more hazardous than ever. He took an involuntary step back, halfway anticipating what followed.

Her voice was low, barely to be heard, but firm and filled with the hint of a rage that he immediately associated with a wounded beast that knew it was defeated but went down struggling all the way.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Realization hit him. The red notebook on the table. He had left it there. He hadn't hidden it again as he had done time and again during the previous weeks. He had left it on the table right where she was bound to find it. He couldn't even accuse her of going through his things since she could have easily confused it with the one he had given to her earlier.

He thought about denying it for a moment, but found it was useless. He had to deal with it right now. Jarod wasn't a man who was afraid of confrontations, but today he felt his heartbeat quicken, aware of the fact that he might as well lose everything right here and right now.

"Miss Parker, I..." he trailed off. What was he about to say? How was he about to explain it to her? He only realized that she hadn't been looking at him when she finally raised her chin and locked eyes with him. Her eyes' usually light color seemed to have darkened- were her pupils dilated?

"What? Want to spare me the details?" He approached her rapidly, willing to make up for his lack of explanation by pulling her into his arms, but she placed a firm hand on his chest before he could come any closer. Still he was close enough to be able to smell the sherry on her breath.

"Tell me the truth, Jarod."

She did not plead, she demanded. He knew he had to answer her and he knew that it would hurt. One way or the other. There was a long silence in which she moved only to pull her hand back as if touching him made her sick.

"I was going to make this one of my games," he finally spoke, receiving nothing but the unwavering stare. There was a flicker of devastation in the solemnness of her expression from time to time and despite his own predicament, he found himself worrying about her sanity.

"I sent you that tape of your mother to have you wondering about why your father would do that to her..." Her right eyebrow twitched and she bit her lip.

"I had found out that Kerley had most probably killed Stella because Amanda was not his daughter I just didn't know who the real father was. I didn't expect this to develop any further... I didn't expect _us_ to develop any further..."

He was out of breath and stopped, suddenly badly struggling for air. How on earth could he redeem this? He was so close to losing her now. She'd told him from the start she was sick of his games and still this must look to her like just that.

"I fully intended to have you bond with Amanda and have you find out about her parentage in the process along with yours, but... When I saw your scar that night and we slept together in that bed afterwards, I... I just couldn't. We had that talk about the games I used to play, about how I was... trying to play god and I discarded my plan."

He was suddenly at a loss of words again. Was this what he had actually been planning to say? He had pushed the issue so far from his mind that he had never actually made up any speeches to explain himself to her.

She seemed to have been frozen in place until now, her face an armor to conceal whatever emotions were underneath it. She stepped forward, looked up into his face now he was towering over her and said very quietly: "I will go upstairs now. I suggest you don't follow. I will leave as soon as I can. If you haven't left this house and returned the keys to my lawyer until tonight I will see to a team of Sweepers come here. Are we clear?"

"Parker, I..." he began.

"Are we clear?" She repeated, louder and firmer now, her eyebrows raised in disgust.

"Yes." He agreed and before the last of the word had left his lips, she had stepped out of the kitchen already.

* * *

Broots looked up from of columns of numbers that would have looked unrelated to most other people, but gave him insight into quite a bit of the structure of the Centre mainframe. He used calm periods of time between leads on Jarod to further his research in order to have the means to override one clearance level or the other when he really needed to. This time he had come really far since Jarod hadn't been heard from for weeks.

Snapped from his current phase of concentration by the sharp staccato of stiletto heels, he realized too late that they could only belong to one person.

"Hello, Broots."

He turned around and looked up at the familiar figure of Miss Parker. He scrambled to his feet and stuttered a greeting while his mind was busy looking her up and down. He had expected her to have a tan or look rested, but she looked even less healthy than usual. Her pallor was accented by the black suit she was wearing. Normally she would wear a splash of color underneath like a red blouse or a blue top, but today there was only white skin. Broots swallowed nervously, anxious to not let his gaze linger too long on her revealing neckline. Although she was wearing heavy make-up even by her standards, he could see the slightest hint of a bruise on her forehead, half concealed by strands of hair. And although she carried herself upright as usual, there was a slight gingerliness in her step that wasn't normal.

"M... Miss Parker are you alright?" he blurted out and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Of course. I am rested and well after my wonderful vacation," she said sarcastically, then added "I feel just peachy."

They looked at each other for a moment and Broots knew what the stern expression in her eyes was meant to convey: She was aware of the obviousness of her condition but did not want him to ask about it.

Sometimes Broots was almost proud of the way they communicated without words. It seemed that under the surface of constant teasing, sarcasm and insult there was a certain tenderness between them that she was eager to conceal. As if Miss Parker assumed that her way of treating him was as much an act to him as it was to her.

"Have there been any news on Jarod?" she asked, calmly. He noticed that from time to time, when she thought he wasn't paying attention, she craned her neck awkwardly. He wondered whether she was hurt, but refrained from asking to honor her unspoken wish.

"Nothing. Maybe he took some time off himself."

A weird look passed over Miss Parker's face but before Broots could give it another thought, Sydney strode in. His face lit up with joy as he caught sight of Miss Parker.

"Miss Parker! You're back! How has your vacation been?" he asked warmly and Miss Parker whirled around, startled. The sudden movement seemed to do anything but benefit her, because she swayed slightly and reached out for something to hold on to. Sydney reacted quickly and caught her around the waist to steady her. Miss Parker gave a very low but pained groan that Broots suddenly suspected of not being related to her physical condition.

Instead, it seemed to be Sydney's close proximity that made her uneasy. She quickly stepped away from the psychiatrist and shot a fleeting gaze into his direction.

"Hello," she said, notably less eloquently than usual.

"Are you alright? You seem ill!"

"Concussion," Miss Parker muttered barely audibly, then added. "Hit my head on a water slide."

Miss Parker on a water slide? That must have been quite a sight, Broots thought.

"Then maybe you'd like to sit down."

Miss Parker replied with a sound that sounded a little tortured but Sydney purposefully overlooked it.

"There hasn't been anything on Jarod," he said instead.

"Hasn't he sent anything?" Miss Parker asked and her tired gaze was suddenly intense again.

Sydney hesitated for the shortest of moments, then shook his head. "No."

Miss Parker looked suspicious and her natural bravado returned: "Don't hide things from me, Sydney."

"I'd only ever hide anything from you if doing otherwise could hurt you," Sydney said cryptically and Broots was sure that Miss Parker got the deeper meaning because she looked tortured all over again.

"Sydney I need to speak to you," she said, sounding as if she was in pain.

"How was your vacation?" Sydney asked again, obviously very eager to change the topic, but Miss Parker wouldn't let him.

"Great. I happened to come across a few beautiful lies and took home a bunch of secrets!" Her voice had risen up towards the end of the sentence and she was almost yelling now.

"Miss Parker this is not for you to discuss..." Sydney began, stony-faced, but Miss Parker was already beyond the point where she could be reasoned with.

"I want to speak to you. Now. Or I'll spill the beans right here." She made a subtle gesture towards the security camera in the corner.

"Oh that one," Broots said nonchalantly. "Feel free to spill any beans you want. I didn't like the idea of being watched on the Centre mainframe so that thing is on a loop that shows me work and work and work and..."

"Good." Miss Parker cut him off. She strode towards the door and kicked it shut with far more force than necessary. The resulting bang echoed through the stunned silence of Broots' stuffy office with the impact of a gunshot.

"Now tell me what Jarod sent you. The video, too?" She held up her palm and Broots caught a glimpse of the scar he had been wondering about for weeks. Back then when she'd arrived at work with a bandaged hand she'd told him sarcastically that she had accidentally cut herself while doing fretwork.

Sydney responded to her question with an icy silence that wasn't at all like him.

"Or the copy of the blood test? But you knew Sydney, didn't you? You've known all along!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Parker," Sydney said in that same detached tone he had used a moment before. He sounded like a completely different person and there was suddenly a hollow feeling in Broots' stomach because they seemed to have reversed roles. Usually Miss Parker treated Sydney icily and tried to keep him away from her while he was very obviously trying to get closer to her. Now there was an obvious distress in Miss Parker's words and gestures that worried Broots.

"You did very well, Sydney. You left me hungry to gain a man's approval who I thought was my father for years! You allowed for me to give up the tiny bit of choice I still had in all this! All because you didn't care to tell me that I am not a Parker at all!"

Broots was stunned and understanding dawned on him before Miss Parker delivered the final line of the unbelievable drama that was acted in front of him: "You are my father Sydney! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You must be mistaken," said Sydney with forced calm, then turned around and left.

Miss Parker remained motionless, suddenly looking defeated. Tears had begun to run down her cheeks and a disbelieving sob escaped her mouth when the door fell closed behind Sydney. Broots was at a loss of words and hurried towards Miss Parker to comfort her.

"Leave me alone..." she managed, but her growl turned into just another sob.

"It's alright, Miss Parker. It's between us," Broots said, anxious to not leave her alone with this.

"No. I mean it..." she paused to catch her breath. "Leave me alone... I don't want anyone..." she trailed off and struggled weakly as Broots carefully pulled her towards him.

"It's okay, Miss Parker. I'm too terrified of you to tell anyone."

She finally gave in and lowered her head to his shoulder.

"Why does he do that to me?"

* * *

When Miss Parker returned home that night, she didn't even notice that the lights were switched on. She simply stumbled inside, a hollow feeling numbing her body and eager to start numbing her mind as soon as possible. She walked into the kitchen, bumping into a chair on her way and pulled open the refrigerator to retrieve some ice. The cubes jingled as she dropped them into a large tumbler and gave a low cracking noise when she added a generous amount of vodka. She felt better as soon as she had taken the first sip and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of the liquid burning down her throat. She seemed never to get used to that burn and she actually didn't even like it. She found that she drank only when she was feeling down. While most people around her figured that she drank every evening, she usually contended herself with a glass of wine if at all. If she was okay, she had herbal tea. And she wouldn't have told a soul about that- not even Jarod.

She hadn't even finished that thought when the smell of peppermint hit her nostrils and she opened her eyes with a start, shrieking gracelessly and spilling the vodka over herself when she found Jarod standing right in front of her, a cup of what had to be peppermint tea in his hand.

She was so surprised that she momentarily forgot that she was angry with him: "How do you know that?"

"I heard you sneak downstairs back in Portland a few times and noticed you always came back with a cup of tea. You have an extensive collection of tea bags in your kitchen."

"You do know everything, don't you?" she replied helplessly.

Maybe it was the vodka but his close proximity made her dizzy. She wanted nothing more than to make love to him right here in the half-darkness of her kitchen, just because he was so thoughtful. Stupid her! That train of thought was unique to dumb women who were flattered by a bit of attention.

Jarod gently took the tumbler from her and set it aside, folding her shaking hands around the cup of tea.

"It's better for you, you know?" he said, for once sans the teasing tone he usually used when he warned her about her drinking habits.

She put the cup down and folded her arms in front of her chest in a gesture of defiance.

"I want you to go away. You lied to me and I don't tolerate that."

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker, I am so sorry. I just couldn't find a way to tell you."

It suddenly struck her as odd that he almost always called her "Miss Parker" although he had once been her best friend and now was her lover. Even Sydney called her "Parker". The nervous addressing her as Miss Parker was courtesy of Broots. Her first name had seemed out of question for every single one of her previous lovers, but she suddenly longed for Jarod to call her by it. Especially since he was the only one of the men she had ever slept with, who actually knew her first name. She had even broken up with one former boyfriend because he had been so eager to find out.

It seemed as if she'd never been able to let anyone close enough. And only now that she had found out he had betrayed her trust, she realized that Jarod was the only one whom she had ever actually wanted close.

"I confronted Sydney about it today."

"I know. He called me."

"Did he?" Miss Parker walked toward the kitchen window and pretended to look outside to avoid Jarod's gaze.

"He was angry that you found out."

"I figured that much out."

Jarod was suddenly behind her and touched her just below her shoulder.

"Was he very rude with you?"

Miss Parker turned around, surprised at that question. "You could say so."

"It's the part of the mystery that I could not unravel. I know that you fath... Mister Parker does know that Sydney is your father and I know that he went violent on your mother for that. I just don't know why Sydney never told you. I wanted to find out first because I didn't want you to... well, to have to go through what you just went through."

He shrugged and looked a little lost.

"So you think I'll just forgive you like that?"

"I hope you will, Miss Parker, because I don't want to lose you again."

She put her hands flat against his chest and looked into his eyes: "I need you to help me find out why it is that he reacted to me like this. There was no Centre security around- we were alone with just Broots watching... I need to know why he doesn't want to acknowledge me as his daughter and..." she blanched slightly as a thought occurred to her: "Lyle is his son, too!"

Jarod knew that he had to come clean about everything else he knew right now or he would lose what little confidence she had in him again.

"No, Miss Parker. He is not."

**...to be continued...**


	21. TwentyOne

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**21**

_Heteropaternal superfecundation_.

The two words were the only coherent thought in Miss Parker's brain. The whole concept behind it, though, seemed so far away, so unrealistic, that she was unable to properly grasp it. Somewhere at the edges of her conscious, not yet obscured by the fog that seemed to waver around her brain, she heard Jarod, trying to make things easier for her. He gave her numbers and facts, cases and examples. He obviously offered to her, what always helped him come to terms with things that he felt were out of his reach: Science, statistics, explanations.

Miss Parker wasn't interested in numbers. Had never been.

She had been working for years to get her strong emotions under control and had succeeded by repressing everything but the anger she knew was essential to her being.

She didn't want to do that anymore. She wanted to sink to the floor right there and curl into a tight ball of despair.

Shouldn't she be relieved that Lyle was only her half-brother? That they shared less DNA than she had feared? That they were only a very rare case of twins born by the same mother who were fathered by two different men?

Why was the only thing she could think of the fact that she had been living a lie and Lyle hadn't? And how devastated must her father have been when he had realized that they had given away the wrong baby? That they had kept the unwanted daughter who wasn't his and that he had been deprived of his son?

Did he even know? Was he aware of the fact that not all was lost? That not all of his family members were as worthless as she must be to him? Miss Parker knew that blood meant everything to her father... Why had he let her stay after all? Why hadn't he given her away after her mother had died and couldn't protect her anymore?

A gentle shake of her arm snapped her back into reality, into her dimly lit kitchen in which she stood, facing Jarod whom she had been looking right through.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, stroking her forearm, but her body felt so numb that she couldn't feel his tenderness, just see his motions.

"This is... a little too much."

Shouldn't she be happy that Sydney was her father? That her parents were a gentle and loving mother and a caring altruistic man instead of all the evil she knew Mister Parker represented? Why was she so angry that the identity she had worked so hard to assume was not hers but only her brother's? Had everything felt that wrong because of that? Had she somehow realized in her subconscious all along that she did not truly belong to the Parker clan? At least not in a way that mattered to her father?

* * *

Jarod sat on the window seat and watched Miss Parker sleep. Just a few minutes ago she had been thrashing around, murmuring unintelligible words, now she was silent and exhausted.

Her hair fell around her face, tousled, the sheets had wrapped themselves around her legs and from time to time she gave an uncomfortable shrug as if trying to get them off.

Jarod silently approached her and disentangled her from the sheets, arranged them comfortably around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back from her face. Her face looked pale in the moonlight and her slightly opened lips gave a sharp, dark contrast. Her naked leg that he usually found arousing now only seemed to give her vulnerability away.

This was exactly what he had wanted to protect her from. The knowledge that her life had been built on lies. With all the deceit going on at the Centre her parentage had always been constant to her and he had known that taken the basis of her identity from her might ruin her. And maybe it had.

She had looked distant through all of his explanations of the scientific possibility that fraternal twins could have two different fathers. It was very rare and only happened in about 2 or 3 per cent of all twin couples but it was still possible. And it had happened in Catherine's case. He had come across it in the file he had also found Miss Parker's DNA test in. Obviously in a recent routine check at the Centre somebody had noticed that hers and Lyle's DNA were too different to be those of twins so questions had been asked and tests had been run.

He slid into bed next to Miss Parker and lay there in silence, not touching her. She had been distant ever since his revelation and had soon fallen asleep, her back to him. He knew that she needed time to herself and that she would not react well to being touched by him now. He turned off the light and stared into the darkness of her bedroom.

It was the first time he was staying and in his very short and illegal visits to her home he hadn't had the time to look around.

When his eyes had adjusted to the dim light the moon cast across the floor, he could make out the windows-seat again. There was a paperback novel face down that he had noticed in passing was some kind of crime fiction, the title displayed in bold red letters on the cover. There were more books in a bookcase downstairs. Up here there was only the wide bed, a huge wardrobe about which he still couldn't figure out how it could accommodate her extensive collection of clothes and a dressing table on which stood a bottle of perfume and a case that must contain her make-up. What was very obvious about her home was, that everything was in its place. With no knick-knack around to speak of, it looked more like a hotel-room or a rented apartment than a house someone had lived in as long as Miss Parker had. There was a single picture of her with her mother, but that was about the only personal item he could spot.

Why had he never realized how this home gave an impression of loneliness? Tasteful and expensive loneliness, but loneliness still.

He reached out to gently rest his hand on Miss Parker's back. He remembered her tender ways with Amanda and how he had found her holding the baby. She pretended not to need anyone, but she was as human as everyone else was and she couldn't fool him.

Inching closer, he gently pressed his lips into her neck and inhaled the scent of her.

Feeling another little jolt of guilt for his past actions, he ran his finger over her open palm were the outline of the angry red scar was still visible in the half-darkness.

Someone would have to put a stop to all of this madness.

He thought back to his conversation with Sydney earlier that evening. The older man had sounded more furious than Jarod could recall having ever heard him, demanding to know how Jarod had found out. He hadn't even once asked why Jarod had told her, maybe because he knew how important his origins were to Jarod, or maybe because he knew that it was wrong to keep the truth from his daughter.

Jarod had told Sydney that the Centre didn't know, that he had nothing to fear anymore and that he could arrange for Miss Parker and Sydney to meet far away from the Centre so they could talk things over, but Sydney had rudely declined, asking him not to embarrass himself.

"If we're smart, we will deny this has ever happened," he had said and with that, had hung up.

What was wrong?

* * *

Sydney stood by the window of his living-room and stared out into the garden where the moonlight was reflected on the rippling surface of the pond he had created last summer in an attempt to find a pastime that didn't involve books and being inside a stuffy study.

His hand that held back the heavy curtains he drew at night was shaking. The image of the very kind Catherine kept flashing at him in his head, always blurring into the face of Miss Parker, the stony expression she always wore right in place.

He grabbed the fabric harder, thinking of the previous afternoon, of the look on her face, the moment when her features had softened, revealing a person that could have just been Catherine.

He dropped the curtain and walked out of the living-room into his study, the one place in the house where he felt most at home. He went past the ceiling-high bookcases and rounded the heavy oak desk, sinking into the comfortable leather-chair behind it. His fingertips brushed the framed photograph that stood on the desktop and touched the cold glass.

Catherine.

"_Catherine."_

_He sat down next to her on the couch as she had indicated and forced himself to look at the little girl's face. She was beautiful and there was already something of her mother in her eyes._

"_How does your husband feel about her?" he asked without preamble, then regretted his words immediately._

_She turned towards him with an intent stare. "He is never to know, do you understand?"_

_He did- although it felt like a knife carving though his body._

"_What are you going to name her?" Sydney asked awkwardly._

_Catherine traced the baby's face gently with her forefinger, but when she looked up, her expression betrayed the tenderness._

"_Whatever her first name will be, remember she will always have to be Miss _Parker _to you."_

"_Don't worry," Sydney replied evenly, while her words tore at his insides. _

_Their old confidence seemed to seep away and he knew he had to ask before she became distant enough to ignore his words. _

"_Are you sure she is mine?" he asked, huskily, looking down at the child's half-closed eyes._

"_She looks like you..." Catherine whispered despite herself, then nodded."You know the Centre's scientific progress. I had a test run. You should have never found out."_

_Her expression hardened, she looked like business. It was this look on her face that Sydney would always remember. _

It was that look that he had received from Miss Parker when she had returned from boarding school after years of absence and his heart had seemed to freeze in its place. And when she had begun to talk, when he had watched her go about her work every day, he had realized that she had become all that he had seen in Catherine that fateful day.

It had destroyed their relationship and forbid him to ever be close to his daughter who was what her mother had foreseen she would always be to him-Miss Parker.

* * *

Jarod woke to kisses that were planted downwards from his jaw done to his collarbone. Still groggy with sleep, he gave a soft groan and received a laugh in return. His eyes fluttered open to the image of Miss Parker who was next to him, her hand moving from his chest down to his stomach. The memory of the previous night's stony silence and her absentmindedness came flying back at him and he was confused for a moment at how her mood had changed.

He already felt his reaction to her, returning her hungry kisses. Being rather inexperienced for obvious reasons, Jarod still hadn't learned how to control himself when actually something else was on his mind and so the thought of her previously rather desolate state of mind just drifted away from him and returned only when they were done and Miss Parker swung her legs over the side of the bed without looking back at him.

He grabbed her arm just before she could leave and pulled her back.

"Now what was that all about?"

"Now what?" she replied in a clipped tone. "I felt like it that was all. And now I am going to take a shower. You're coming?" She winked and he knew instantly that she was playacting.

"I know what you're trying to do but it won't work," he told her sternly. "We were far beyond the point were you were trying to make me believe you were a cold bitch who doesn't care, remember?"

Her face fell and for a moment he wondered whether he had been too hard on her.

"You know me too well, Jarod. And that scares me."

He searched her face for signs of sarcasm but found genuine fear.

"So what do you think I'll do with that knowledge, huh?" he asked softly. "You have to learn to trust me finally."

She gave him a long look that melted when he held the stare and then looked away, pressing one hand to her heart.

"Do you think Sydney will talk to me again?" she asked in a firm voice that was betrayed by the expression on her face.

Jarod was glad that he had managed to break the old routine she had too easily fallen back into. Playing the non-caring femme fatale came far easier to her, than dealing with her own feelings which she finally had to understand required much more strength and bravery than masking them.

"I am sure he will. He was just surprised, Parker. Once he has given it some thought I am sure you two will be able to work it out."

He gently pulled her closer and enjoyed her warmth, pulling the sheets back over her.

"Promise me you'll always be honest with me from now on," he asked. There was a momentary silence, then she replied: "I will try, Jarod. I will try."

* * *

Morning had finally come and Sydney was still sitting behind the desk in his study, staring at Catherine's picture. After hours he had finally made a decision and he didn't look at the clock when he picked up the phone.

It was picked up after the first ring. No wonder. He practically lived at the Centre.

"Mister Parker, there is something I would like to tell you..."

Sydney caught his reflection in the window and was shocked for the briefest of moments: His face was harder than he had ever seen it.

**... to be continued ...**


	22. TwentyTwo

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine...

**22**

Miss Parker impatiently listened to the dial tone for a minute while she imagined the phone on the other end ringing endlessly through Sydney's empty house. Or maybe it wasn't empty at all and he simply still refused to talk to her.

Rejection still stung although she should have been used to it by now. Jarod had gone out to buy some groceries, remarking on her empty freezer and the lonely box of rice in the cupboard whose expiry date had been before the new millennium.

With him away, she could finally succumb to the only thing that she claimed to herself would keep her sane. Truthfully, it would probably do more damage than good, but she couldn't have cared less when she took a hearty sip of the clear liquid. It had taken her a trip to Moscow to learn to appreciate the taste of fine vodka, so she didn't bother with the stuff she could buy around here and always ordered directly from the Russian capital.

The dial tone went on and on with no answering machine picking up. Centre employees didn't need answering machines, she mused. Being friendless and workaholic was a job requirement.

She looked around her living-room and sighed. It was a nice house and she had refurnished it partially when she had moved in here after college, but memories of past times spent here were still lurking in the corners and coming at her whenever she dared to lower her defenses.

Her mother, on the one hand, smoothing her hair back and throwing her head back laughing, when they accidentally dropped a piece of cake onto the clean white carpet. Thomas, on the other hand, lying motionless on her front-porch, the life drained out of him, his eyes staring upwards at her, somewhat accusingly.

She had vowed to herself back then never to get involved with anyone again. Being with her was hazardous, if not deadly and she simply wasn't worth it. The problem was, that she was unable to resist Jarod even if she wanted to, as well as he couldn't resist her.

They were drawn to each other like magnets and there was nothing she wanted or could do to stop it. She was longing for him even now that he had simply dropped out to the supermarket and she wondered whether it was the alcohol or her predicament with Sydney that made her want to rip the bags of calorie-loaded junk food from his arms when he returned, and throw him back against the wall to kiss him.

She chuckled and took another sip of Vodka while the dial tone went on and on. Why was she doing this to herself? Why didn't she do what Sydney wanted her to and just forgot about it? Because she wanted answers. She needed answers.

She needed to go away from here.

With a sudden urgency she threw the phone down and leaped to her feet. Looking around the room, she did a check of what she would need to take with her if she wanted to just escape right now, but came up empty-handed. She had read all the books in this room and she didn't care for the expensive pillow-cases or the golden clock on the wall that she had not inherited but bought in a small antiques shop. The interior of this house had been designed by her to be lived in comfortably, but it had never felt like a home.

She got up and set the glass down hard, the half-melted ice-cubes jingling inside.

Taking two steps at a time on the stairs, she went upstairs to her bedroom and began to stuff clothes inside suitcases in a frenzy. There went her favorite clothes, the toiletries, her mother's picture. She gave the book she had been reading before Jarod had shown up that night a fleeting look. It seemed as if she had started reading it in another lifetime. She picked it up and looked at the cover. A thriller and good one by Val McDermid starring a clinical psychologist named Tony Hill. She snorted and picked the novel up just to throw it down into her suitcase with some force. Psychologists, psychiatrists. Sydney. Damn the whole lot of them.

She grabbed her suitcase and made for the stairs, piling luggage in front of the door, her own voice echoing inside her head: "I've got more luggage than an airport."

Had she really been talking about the insane amount of designer clothes she owned? Or had she tried to warn Thomas about the emotional baggage she would never get rid of?

She paused for a brief moment and stared at the assortment of bags and suitcases that were strewn across the hallway. The baggage was still there and just like her clothes she would be taking it with her if she left now. She could leave, but she could never escape the Centre. Slowly and suddenly drained of all the frenzied energy that had been fueling her before, she sank down to the floor and buried her hands in her hair, tugging at the roots until it hurt.

There needed to be a way out. She had been supposed to leave when Thomas had died. She had been supposed to have a better life in Portland.

Miss Parker knew that she could not rely on Jarod to get her out and she knew that she didn't want to. He would get her out alright, would take her away and protect her from the Centre. But they would be chased. And Miss Parker wouldn't be chased. Wouldn't be defeated.

She had been doing this for far too long now and it would stop right here.

* * *

"Mister Parker."

The name was familiar, but had never been spoken by that voice before, neither could he recall having heard that particular voice address him with that kind of vigor ever before.

He stepped away from the window, his hand sliding off the pane and coming to rest on his desk and he turned round to face her.

"Angel."

She stood in the doorway, pale and somber but with features that seemed to have suddenly come to life.

"So how was your vacation?" he asked, once again cheerful.

"Good." She approached and he took in the imposing black suit, the heavy watch on her wrist and the perfectly styled hair. Business as usual- yet something was different.

"I know your dirty little secret," she said evenly. "Or should I say- mine?"

He knew what was coming, he had known since Sydney had called.

"I am not a Parker after all and I was crushed at first." She gestured around the room. "All this has never been mine. I would have never been able to live up to the legacy that you have been telling me about ever since I was a little girl. But do you know what? I don't care anymore."

He tilted his head, mildly surprised by what he heard. From the way he knew her, he would have expected hysteria and uproar. He would have expected to be able to calm her and take her back into the confines of the family. But this was very different.

Why would she be glad to be an outcast? This family was everything she had. And he certainly wasn't happy to have her break free, because despite her parentage she had become a very powerful Centre player and was living up to the genes she didn't possess after all.

She stepped closer to the desk, placing both hands on its shiny surface.

"You have your son, Mr Parker. So just let me go."

He was stunned for a moment. Why would she make such an outrageous request? Didn't she know that she could easily be shot for this in the Centre's harsh system of what they liked to call justice?

"You mean you want me to allow you to leave?" He gave a distracted, yet humorless little laugh. "You are not serious, are you?"

"Why would I barge in here to play a silly prank on you?" she replied and held his gaze firmly. He really had no idea where she wanted this to lead.

"If you try to walk away from the Centre you will be killed. You know that as well as I do."

"Not if you order them not to. Raines is powerful but he will not be able to undermine your orders. You know that as well as I do," she mimicked his earlier sentence.

"But why on earth would I allow you to leave? Especially before you have managed to catch Jarod?"

"Catch Jarod?" she gave a snort. "Why would I want to catch him anymore? Nothing ties me to this place and he can be damned happy if it's the same with him."

Where had his Angel gone? And why did he instinctively know that this wasn't just a phase?

"Look, Angel. Maybe we can talk this through."

"Oh, yes we can," she mocked. "Here I go."

She brought her face closer to his and he could feel her breath on his skin.

"You found out that Sydney is my father and you beat my poor mother half to death. After she died you kept me. Why? As a pet?"

He was silent for a moment, then looked away from her blazing eyes that he only now realized resembled Sydney's. He turned back towards the window and watched the raindrops run down the glass with wondrous grace. She waited, more patiently than he would have expected her to and when he turned back around, a small teardrop on her cheek mirrored the raindrops on the window. She hadn't noticed it and he refrained from remarking on it.

"You were still my little girl to me," he said with the first open display of emotion towards her that she could recall having seen in ages. "I used to call you my little angel and I was proud to have such a pretty intelligent child. When I found out that I wasn't the father, but that your mother had been unfaithful with Sydney, my world fell apart."

She remained in silence and he hoped that she would believe what were possibly the first honest words he had said to her in years.

"You were never mine, but I felt like your mother had taken you away from me when she admitted to what the blood test had already given proof of. I looked at you that day and I wondered what you might have become if I had continued to believe you to be my daughter."

He paused and braced himself for what would come next: "I feel that you were actually the only person I have ever loved. You know..." He wondered whether he should tell her about her paternal grandparents, about their ways, their coldness, their lack of any emotion at all. About how he had left them to go to university, how he had been a loner until he had met her mother who had given him warmth for the first time in his life.

Still, he had never loved her. He hadn't been able to, although he had liked her a great deal. Could he tell Miss Parker that? He decided against it, fearing her to be angry with him because she believed him to try to get pitied by her. What he was even more afraid of, however, was actually being pitied by her. He had tried to raise her to be what had always held him together: tough and cold. Now he saw that it had been wrong and that it had not worked.

"When you were born and I held you in my arms for the very first time, I... I suddenly realized that there was a whole other world of feelings than I had been able to produce until then. I looked into your face and I realized that I loved you."

He tried to catch her eye, but she looked away, tears shining in her eyes. He had never told her he loved her before and now that it didn't matter anymore, he did.

"When I learned the truth, I couldn't bear looking at you anymore because the only true love I'd ever felt for a human being had been a farce. So I avoided you, but I didn't have the heart to do anything about it. Then your mother died and I was left with a choice. I could have abandoned you but I chose not to. I just couldn't because feelings don't die with truths. All I was capable of doing was to send you to boarding school so I wouldn't have to be faced with the evidence of that betrayal every day."

And with the fact that love was, after all, a lie.

He grew silent and looked at the beautiful woman she had become. In many ways she looked like her mother but he knew that she there were also traces of her father in her, that he had forced her to repress: Compassion, intuition, insight.

"I made his life hell," he went on besides himself. "I told him I would have you killed if he ever told you about the fact that he was your father."

Miss Parker snorted and although she tried to keep her composure, it sounded tearful.

"So you loved me," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "Or at least you loved a little girl you believed to be yours."

Everything inside the old man writhed against what he was going to do next, but still somehow he couldn't help it. He stepped around the desk and did the closest to a gesture of love he could produce. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"I loved what you represented to me: Unconditional love. And that you have given me all these years although I was unable to give it back to you." She looked up at him, but he knew he had to go on. He was too old to change and he knew he never would. "I am not able to love you now, Angel. I will never be."

He could see in her eyes that she didn't know whether she should be crushed or not. On the one hand he was the father she had loved for years, on the other hand, he wasn't her father at all, nor was he in any way lovable as a person. But as he had just said, feelings didn't die with the truth.

"The best thing I could do to you, was send you away when you were a little girl, Angel. I sent you far away from the Centre. My mistake was to let you return."

He looked straight into her eyes again. Curious, he was able to do something now that he hadn't done during all these years.

"I would like to atone for that now." He tried to smile, but failed. Smiling wasn't in his repertoire. _Too late to change_.

"See it as you will. A gift, more rejection, but I will now send you away."

She furrowed her brows. "What...?"

"Go. You're free. But make it quick and do it silently. Don't say goodbye. We don't want people on your case. There's only one condition: Sydney doesn't know that I have learned about your knowledge of your parentage. He still thinks I'll kill you if I find out. I want it to stay that way."

Miss Parker was silent, weighing her options. "That means I will never talk to him again?"

Mr Parker nodded, the hunger for revenge still as strong as it had been on the day he had found out that Sydney was the father.

"Or he'll die. You know the drill in life. That is the one thing I have taught you: Nothing's free. Your own freedom is all I can give you."

She hesitated for a moment, then gave him a defeated look. Her voice was raspy as she said: "Thank you... Daddy."

And there was nothing else to be said between them. He watched her walk out, then turned towards the man in the dark corner.

"Now, Sydney. Did you hear it all properly?" he asked wearily and followed Sydney with his eyes as he came towards him.

"I didn't know you were able to express your feelings so thoroughly, Mr Parker."

"Only once in a while." Mr Parker felt that the impenetrable mask on his face was back, as if his features were paralyzed again, unable to move to express emotion.

"Still, you know what you've promised me," he reminded Sydney and the old psychiatrist nodded.

"Of course, Mr Parker. Her freedom for mine. I'll stay as long as you want me to and I'll work with Lyle to get Jarod back."

Mr Parker nodded and gestured towards the door. "You know, I have some paperwork to do now." He wondered, whether he should not feel that detached from everything, but then realized that it was not detachment that he was feeling. It was... contentment. He had spent so much time deliberately making the wrong choices that he had forgotten that it felt good to do the right thing.

Sydney turned around at the door and looked at him: "And Mr Parker... Thank you."

Mr Parker bit his lip and hoped that Sydney wouldn't notice. "Not for that, Sydney. She didn't feel herself a part of the family anymore. With that she would have been a nuisance rather than a good employee."

The two men both knew that he was lying, but they also knew that he was doing it for his own sake, so Sydney let it pass: "Of course, Sir."

* * *

Sydney sat at his desk and watched Lyle pace the length of the room.

"Why on earth can't we find him?" The younger man raged. "So all his little leads and tricks were just down to the fact that it was a hot brunette in a short skirt chasing him? What am I supposed to do? Put on a leather mini and rotate my hips?"

Sydney made a sympathetic face and felt the sheet of paper that lay on his desk, shielded from Lyle's gaze by his hand.

"Anyway. I'll have these idiots get the jet ready to chase after that hideously ridiculous lead that Broots idiot has come up with. See you in ten."

Lyle marched out and slammed the door behind him, leaving Sydney to his own devices.

He picked up the sheet of paper on his desk and ran his finger along it, smiling sadly to himself. It was Miss Parker's handwriting scrawled across the page as if she had been in a hurry. "Sydney," it read. "I know what you did for me. I cannot thank you enough. All my love."

She had obviously overheard his and Mr Parker's conversation when she's left, due to an old instinct of preservation.

_You don't have anything to fear, little one_, he thought. _As long as I am here to take care of that._

Miss Parker sat on her front-porch watching the rain grow weaker until only a few drops were falling from the branches of the trees. She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the sound and the heavy metallic smell of the summer rain mixed with the scent of the soil.

She remembered the honest look in Mr Parker's eyes, the pained expression he had worn during those seconds that he had been silent as if memories were playing inside his head. She instinctively knew that they had been painful and that it hadn't been about her. Why couldn't he love? She would never know. And she would never see Sydney, her real father, again. Of course she wanted to, but if she was endangering his life by doing so, she wouldn't. It had been the only condition to her freedom and she had willingly gone for it.

Maybe it was because she was willing to look into the future now, instead of reliving the horrors of her past over and over again. She opened her palm and traced the scar with her finger. Somehow she knew that it would finally heal now. It would always be there, but she wouldn't have to stare at it anymore, only look at it when she wanted to remember from time to time.

Since she had returned to Thomas' house in Oregon, she had felt peace settle on her. She was free. Free to do whatever she wanted with her life. She had enough money to live comfortably until she decided what she wanted to do as a profession.

The rain clouds were slowly dissipating and a piece of blue sky began to show over the old apple tree at the other end of the driveway. She nestled into her chair and sipped the glass of red wine that she had previously abandoned for her thoughts.

"Need a refill?"

She looked up into Jarod's eyes and grinned. "Not yet."

"That comes from the woman who told me she could easily drink a barrel!"

"Only when she needs to. And she doesn't now."

She reached over and took the bottle from his hand, pulling him closer to her.

"So you're okay?" he whispered.

"I am okay."

They had been talking about the scene in Mr Parker's office for hours at length. Jarod had raided the Centre mainframe to find out whether a search had been instigated for her, but there was nothing. Her records had been deleted, only a file saying "terminated" coming up when he typed her name into the search engine.

Gradually, they had given up asking question. No reason to give up vigilance, but for now they seemed safe. Free at last.

"Are you going to taunt Lyle from now on? Seems as if he is my successor in being your hunter."

Jarod grinned. "Maybe from time to time. I was thinking about looking for a flat here in Portland." He searched her eyes for a reaction, knowing that she was still not ready to dive headfirst into a relationship with him. She had just for the first time in her life acquired something that resembled emotional stability, so she would have to learn to deal with herself before she would be able to deal with a relationship that involved living together. Rushing things might destroy what they had built up and that was the last thing Jarod wanted.

"That's a good idea," she said, placing a kiss in the corner of his mouth. "Make sure it is very close to my place, will you?"

"I'll be like some character in a sitcom, always hanging around your living..."

"... bedroom," she corrected, winking at him.

He savored the slow kiss she gave him, then put his arms around her and enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine on his arms that had finally broken through the clouds. And with Miss Parker in his arms, and his head in the clouds, he decided it had all been worth it.

Miss Parker rested her head on Jarod's shoulder and looked out into the garden to watch fresh sunlight make the rain drops sparkle.

She would finally find peace. Here, in her Rain City.

**The End**

_Wow, I have been struggling with that ending. I had written a completely different one, but then realized that it wouldn't do this story justice. _

_Thank you everybody for your kind reviews, for your patience with me when real life kept me from updating and for your enthusiasm that made writing this story pure joy to me!_

_Oh, and if you like, check out the song that inspired me to write this story: "Rain City" by Turin Brakes  
_


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